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MARRIED BYTHE MAYOR; 

OR, 

THE DARK PAGE IN HIS LIFE. 


/ 

BY MRS. H. C. HOFFMAN. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1885 , by Nor- 
man L. Munro , in the office of the Librarian of 
Congress , at Washington, D. C. 






NEW YORK: 

NORMAN L. MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

24 AND 26 VANDEWATER ST. 









) 

OR, 

THE DARK PAGE IN HIS LIFE. 


BY MRS. H. C. HOFFMAN. 


CHAPTEK I. 

THE SHADOW OF A WOMAH. 

“Ah, the very man I was thinking about!” said Henry 
Leighton with a little start as, standing at the window, 
he saw a gentleman leave the steps and make his way 
down the long avenue to the gate. “I wonder why 
Sarah asked him here? I don't know why it is, but I 

don’t like that man — I don’t like his attentions to I’ll 

send for her and speak to her about it. I think it is my 
duty to do it. Poor little girl, she hasn’t a relative in 
the world. I won’t put it off any longer. No use of 
leaving it for Sarah to do; she may not be home for sev- 
eral days,” and Mr. Leighton stepped from the window 
and touched the bell. 

“ Say to Miss Forrest I would like to see her a few 
minutes if she is not engaged,” said Mr. Leighton to the 
servant who appeared in answer to his ring. 

Edna Forrest would have been engaged when Mr. 
Leighton’s message was brought to her in the drawing- 
room, had she permitted herself to be. She was having 
an “ encounter ” for the fifth time to-day with Yere Gor- 
don when the servant from Mr. Leighton came to her 
rescue. 

“Miss Forrest, I want you to look over a few water- 



3 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


colors I have here, and tell me what you think of them/’ 
Yere Gordon had said as he laid his portfolio on a little 
stand beside Edna. 

Vere Gordon’s manner might mislead a careless ob- 
server. 

His air was debonair, though his tone was matter-of- 
fact; just now it was commanding, and while his face 
was stern there was a twinkle in his blue eyes. 

“ You want me to look over your water-colors!” said 
Miss Forrest, rising. 

She drew herself up, elevated her chin, but she wasn’t 
very tall at that. She was lithe and slim, though prom- 
ising to be much taller, for her growing days were scarcely 
over, as she was not yet seventeen. 

The uplifted chin and the large brown eyes raised to his 
face were a sure sign of scorn and defiance, yet Vere 
Gordon was not annihilated. His features did not relax, 
but the twinkle in the blue eyes deepened until they 
brimmed full of laughter as he bowed low before her and 
said: 

“ Pardon, Miss Forrest, will you be hind enough to look 
over my poor efforts and pass judgment upon them.” 

• “ Indeed, sir, my opinion would not be worth the say- 
ing; even my taste for the fine arts is, as yet, very far 
from being formed — but here comes Miss Taunton. I 
haven’t a doubt you will take great pleasure in showing 
them to her, as she is competent to pass judgment upon 
them.” 

“ Yes,” Vere said with great solemnity, “ I will take 
great pleasure in showing my work to Cora Taunton, for 
she is way up in everything — all New York girls are.” 

Edna’s color grew brighter, and in spite of her she re- 
vealed a little temper, and a sneer. 

“Oh, New York represents all the wealth and all the 
culture of this country?” and a derisive little laugh fol- 
lowed the question. 

“Poor New York,” said Vere with the same solemn 
face; “but 1 wouldn’t show my jealousy if I were you.” 

“ Mr. Gordon, I am sorry that 1 am compelled to explain 
to you that I know my place too well, and indeed am of 
too humble a spirit, to be jealous of any of Mr. Leigh- 
ton’s guests. If my speech is plain to rudeness, will you 
be kind enough to remember that I am only hired at so 


MARRIED BY TIIE MAYOR. 


3 


many dollars a month to be in this drawing-room, and 
my advantages have been few.” 

“ But you made a very great deal of them,” said Vere, 
in a most matter-of-fact voice. 

At this moment the servant approached to tell Edna 
Mr. Leighton wanted her, and Cora Taunton, the New 
York belle, having stopped to speak to one of the guests, 
a number of whom were in the large drawing-room, was 
again making her way toward Vere and Edna. 

“ I have been called away at a most opportune mo- 
ment. I can now gracefully make way for your brilliant 
New York friend.” 

“Oh, you poor little Philadelphian!” and Vere gave 
her a look full of pity and a shake of the head that made 
her think he believed her case a hopeless one, 

“ Philadelphians are not in need of your pity, sir,” and 
with a toss of her head she left him. 

The twinkle died out of his eyes as they followed the 
slim figure. When she disappeared across the thresh- 
old he stepped to a window close by and looked out, and 
a few moments later his thoughts were disturbed by a 
little hand resting on his arm. 

“What did you say to offend her royal highness, Mr. 
Gordon?” 

Vere Gordon looked down at Cora Taunton’s handsome 
face; the flash of her eyes had a power that, for most men, 
was irresistible. This New York belle who had come 
up from Cape May with Mr. Leighton and his sister. Miss 
Sarah Leighton, was considered handsome, brilliant, 
dashing; but there is a shorter description in our mind 
that will fit her exactly — Miss Cora Taunton was fast. 

“And pray who is her royal highness?” and the eyes 
that looked down at Cora had a most innocent expres- 
sion. 

“Why our charming hostess, of course,” said Cora, with 
open sarcasm. 

“ Oh, did she look offended? Well, how stupid of me 
not to have seen it. Now you speak of it, I believe we 
did disagree about my drawings here.” 

“ Oh, have you some sketches of your own here? — may 
I look at them?” and she still kept her hand on his arm. 

“ Certainly; though I promise you if you look over 
them faithfully you will be very much bored. Ah, as I 


4 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


live, here comes Clifford! Now, that is strange! I sup- 
posed he was in New York, and I was wishing him here 
hut a few moments ago when you spoke to me. Will you 
excuse me, Miss Taunton, I have something very import- 
ant to say to him. Shall I leave you my portfolio?” 

“Oh, yes, I shall be delighted!” cried Cora; but she 
looked anything but delighted when Vere left her and 
hurried out to meet the young man coming up the ave- 
nue. 

“ Clifford,” said Gordon, after the first salute, “ I’m 
glad you’ve come. I couldn’t stand it here another day. 
I was going back to New York to-morrow expressly for 
the purpose of seeing you. I tell you, Clifford, my po- 
sition is becoming unbearable.” 

Gordon spoke quickly — excitedly. You would scarcely 
recognize him as the calm young gentleman who tortured 
Edna Forrest. 

Richard Clifford looked as if he felt ill at ease The 
bright pink left his fair face. His eyes wandered from 
his friend. You could see at a glance that this young 
man had not a particle of confidence in himself. 

“ Dick, this thing must come to an end some time ” 

“ I know it,” interrupted Clifford. 

“ If you are not tired, let us take a little walk. We 
can talk without fear of interruption and get back in 
time to dress for dinner.” 

It was a lovely day in November, somewhat chilly now 
that the sun was disappearing. The young men walked 
briskly down the avenue. Their step was quickened by 
the. sense of chill or an anxiety perhaps to get away from 
the house. 

There was a striking difference in these two friends, as 
they walked along the quiet road in a suburb of Phila- 
delphia. Vere Gordon, tall, broad-shouldered, hand- 
some, showed his natural temperament now, perhaps. 
His blue eyes were restless and had an expression of deep 
pain, and every tone and movement indicated the impetu- 
ous man. Clifford was about Gordon’s age, twenty-three; 
he was uneasy too, but it was the uneasiness of a quiet 
man. He was not as tall as his companion, neither had 
lie the breadth nor strength. There was never a woman 
fairer than Clifford. Tawny hair and mustache, china 
blue eyes, and skin of pink and white. They were dif- 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


5 


ferent, indeed, yet never were two young men more 
closely knit in the ties of friendship. 

“ It’s the dark page in my life,” said Gordon, abruptly. 

“ Oh, Heaven, don’t say that,” said Clifford with much 
feeling. 

“ I can’t help saying it, for I feel it. "When we were 
leaving England, I felt that I had turned to the dark 
page in my book. Travel, new faces and new friends 
made me forget the feeling for a time, but it has come 
back to me, and it grows stronger every hour I remain in 
that house. Think of it, being taken into the bosom of 
a family. Think of what a fraud I am. What will I be 
thought of when I am found out. Dick, I’ll go away; 
then you can tell the truth.” 

“ Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Vere, do not take that step 
yet,” said Clifford, deeply agitated. 

“ Dick,” and Gordon stopped in the road and put his 
hand on Clifford’s shoulder, “let me go while I am strong 
enough to go.” 

Dick did not answer, and Gordon spoke again in his 
abrupt way. 

“ Are you expected at the house? What did you come 
down for?” 

“I don’t know that I am expected to-day, but I have 
a standing invitation to come down before my New York 
friends go home.” 

“So you came down expressly to see your New York 
friends — me, for instance,” and there was a tinge of 
bitterness in Vere’s tone. 

“ Yes, I came down to see you,” and Clifford laughed, 
thinking he might turn his friend’s thoughts from the 
“dark page.” 

“Yes, you did,” said the other mockingly. “Come, 
Dick, let us have no secrets between us at this late day. 
Own that you could not stay away from Edna Forrest,” 
and he fixed his eyes piercingly on his friend as he tried 
to read his thoughts in the gathering gloom. 

Clifford blushed to the roots of his hair, and his sur- 
prise was very natural, as he said: 

“Edna Forrest! Oh, come now, Gordon, you know 
better than that.” 

“No shamming!” cried Gordon; “Dick, let us b(j 
honest,” 


6 MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 

“ By Jove, this is funny,” said Clifford, “ for you of 
all men to accuse me of loving Edna Forrest! Why, at 
Cape May, it was believed you were the man. Ton my 
honor I heard that report.” 

“Bah,” said Gordon, with a sneer, “such a report 
could only have been made on the strength of our quar- 
rels.” 

“ No, on the strength that true love never runs smooth,” 
laughed Dick. 

“ Clifford, you are evading me; you have not yet an- 
swered my question.” 

“Well, then, I will answer you now with pleasure. I 
never had a thought of Edna Forrest. Indeed, it is no 
wonder I have made no progross in my love-making, 
when my bosom friend cannot see with whom I am in 
love. I love Cora Taunton with all my soul. That is 
why I could not stay in New York. And now, Vere, 
since you know the truth, 1 beg of you to let things re- 
main as they are for the present. Cora has wealth, beauty, 
all the attractions that bring numberless admirers. If 
she select me from the numberless, she will select me for 
myself. That is why I want you ” 

“ Enough,” said Yere, clasping his friend’s hand. “ I 
will make no more complaints for the present.” The 
expression in his face had changed, and he said, as if 
speaking to himself, though loud enough for his friend 
to hear him, “ It is Cora Taunton!” 

Clifford laughed. 

“ I don’t see how you ever got Edna Forrest into your 
head — naturally enough, though, since you think so much 
about her,” concluded Clifford with a sly look at his 
friend’s face. 

Vere’s expression changed again. This time he 
frowned. 

“Yes, I think of her sometimes. She annoys me a 
great deal,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “ My! 
how dark it is getting! and here we have walked down 
to the Schuylkill; we have got quite a walk back, and 
we have to dress for dinner. ” 

He turned abruptly as he spoke, and Clifford, follow- 
ing his example, said: 

“Now if you had accused Marcus Tremaine of being 


7 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 

in love with Miss Forrest, I would agree, with you at 
once. ” • 

“ Oh, Marcus Tremaine !” said Yere, impatiently. “ Do 
you suppose Edna Forrest would give a second thought to 
such a brute as Marcus Tremaine?” 

“ A brute!” and Clifford laughed. “ Why, he is a 
lion; he has millions, my boy, and all New York is at 
his feet.” 

Yes, that is just like New York; how I despise it!” 
said Vere, bitterly. “A man must have millions or he 
is nobody with New Yorkers. We are foreigners, you 
know, Dick, and as an unbiased observer, you will not 
blame me if I decide in favor of the cultured Philadel- 
phian, who still believes that true worth has more claim 
to his respect than have your Marcus Tremaines with their 
millions.” 

“ I agree with you, Vere. New York is a thorough- 
bred worshiper of the golden calf.” 

“ What is that?” exclaimed Vere, starting back. 

They had reached the gate again, and Vere Gordon saw 
something that startled him, to say the least. 

“ What,” said Clifford. 

“ I thought I saw the shadow of a woman rising from 
a crouching position,” said Vere, and his face turned a 
ghastly color. 

“ The shadow of a woman! Well, that isn’t anything 
strange; this is not a deserted spot, yon know; but really 
I don’t see any woman,” said Clifford, looking around in 
the faint light. “ You must be nervous, Vere.” 

“ I must be,” and something like a shudder passed over 

Vere, “but I could swear ” and Vere paused and 

looked around, but no sight or sound rewarded his 
inquiry. “ Well, I saw something that looked like a 
crouching woman in the act of rising, and it chilled my 
blood — reminded me of a tiger or a panther — I don’t 
mind meeting a solid body, but I hate to be taken by sur- 
prise.” 

He passed in at the gate and did not speak again, 
though Clifford, following him, laughed and said: 

“ A vivid imagination, Vere!” 


8 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


CHAPTER II. 

HER CHAMPION. 

“I nAVE a few things to say to you, my dear child,” 
said Mr. Leighton in his fatherly way, when Edna 
Forrest came in. “ Sit here,” and he pushed an ottoman 
on the hearth rug and placed his own chair beside it. 

She took the seat he placed for her, but he did not sit 
down at once. He walked across the room, and turning 
back looked steadily at the girl sitting on the hearth 
where the light of the burning logs fell upon her. He 
always admired this little companion of his sister. How 
beautiful he thought her this moment. The room was 
gloomy enough to make the firelight ruddy, and Edna’s 
auburn hair grew brighter, her cheeks pinker, and the 
brown eyes glowed like stars. 

“ You wish to say something to me, sir ?” said Edna, 
looking at Mr. Leighton as if she thought he did not like 
to speak. “ I am not a satisfactory hostess. Indeed, sir, 
you needn’t mind telling me — you know I told you that I 
was not fitted for the honor, and I would not bear it 
gracefully.” 

“ My dear child, I have not a single fault to find with you 
there !” and the “ there ” brought Mr. Leighton’s hand on 
the auburn curls. “ You are simply a charming young 
hostess, and that is one of the things I wanted to say to 
you; and I don’t know, with all these guests on my hands, 
and Sarah running off to her sick friend, what I should 
ever have done without you. And now, Edna, I want 
to say to you — and remember not one word of it is 
flattery — to flatter a girl of your age would be doing you 
a great wrong, and I only want to help you toward an end 
which is good. You will make as brilliant a woman as 
any in our set if you will make the most of the next few 
years, if — if ” 

Mr. Leighton hesitated and coughed. 

“ If what, Mr. Leighton ? I know that you are for my 
good and you need not hesitate,” said Edna. 

“Well, my dear child, if you will not permit men’s at- 
tention to turn your head. Now this is the most im- 
portant thing I had to say to you,” said Mr. Leighton, 
plunging boldly in as he had broken the ice. “ I see that 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR 9 

the gentlemen like you. Indeed I would not advise you 
against accepting the attention of a man whom I thought 
worthy of you, but Marcus Tremaine is not. I saw him 
leave the house a few minutes ago, and it reminded me 
that I had this to say to you, I don’t like the man , and I 
know he likes you. Wait, my dear,” as Edna attempted 
to speak. “I know nothing particularly against him, 
only that he has made a large fortune by being unscru- 
pulous in his business methods. He is a handsome man, 
but wholly without refinement. He thinks he has 
humbled the world because he has made his millions, and 
his millions can catch the purest, the loveliest, the most 
brilliant maiden in the land. I haven’t a doubt that he 
is considered a great catch, and I believe Sarah thinks so, 
and because he was so attentive to you at Cape May, in- 
vited him here.” 

“ Oh, sir, I hope not!” cried Edna, whose blushing face 
wore an expression of deep pain. 

“ But Mr. Leighton was right. Miss Sarah Leighton, 
a maiden lady of forty, was flattered by the attention of 
the millionaire to her poor protegee. 

“ I believe it is so,” reiterated Mr. Leighton. “ What 
else would .Sarah invite the New York speculator here 
for? I wish we had not met him at Cape May.” 

The Leightons spent the latter part of the summer and 
nearly all the fall at Cape May, and brought home a 
number of guests to spend a fortnight with them. 

•• Indeed, you need have no regrets, sir. I don’t think 
anything in this world would tempt me to marry Mr. 
Marcus Tremaine.” 

How very earnestly Edna said these words. With what 
wonderful complacency a woman says she could not be 
tempted, when she has never experienced the meaning of 
what she says! 

Mr. Leighton put his hand on her head. 

“ What a relief to hear you say that! and I know I 
can trust you to keep your word, Edna.” 

She did not answer, and there was a silence for a mo- 
ment. His hand was still upon her head. Daylight had 
faded out of the room. The ruddy glow of the fire fell 
upon them. How this'November evening will come back 
to these two sitting here! How this moment will haunt 
Edna Forrest as long as life remains! She was so sure 


iO 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


this moment that nothing could tempt her to marry Mar- 
cus Tremaine. 

“Do you know/’ said Mr. Leighton suddenly, “a 
gentleman met me on Broad Street to-day, and asked me 
if it were true that you were engaged to Vere Gordon. I 
told him that I didn’t believe there was a word of truth 
in it. Of course, I was right?” 

“ Why, of course you were, Mr. Leighton. I cannot 
account for such a report. I am sure there isn’t the 
slightest foundation for it.” 

“ Well, I must differ with you,” said Mr. Leighton, 
Avith a sly look at Edna. “ I am sure Mr. Gordon is in- 
terested, and I have no fault to find, only I do not believe 
in a girl marrying at your age; you must Avait, my 
dear ” 

“Oh, Mr. Leighton, please do not entertain such an 
idea of Mr. Gordon; indeed, he thinks anything but well 
of me, and — and” — Edna rose hastily — “may I go noAV, 
it is getting very late ” 

“ Oh, of course, run aAvay. I took no note of the 
time,” said Mr. Leighton, cheerily, thinking he had em- 
barrassed the girl. 

It Avas Avell she Avas out of the firelight, for a tear stole 
down either cheek as she left the room, not daring to 
trust herself to speak again; but Avhen she reached her 
oavii room, she flung herself on the bed and gave vent to 
her sorroAv. 

“ Whatever makes anybody think he cares for me? He 
thinks me an ignorant little dependent, and he takes no 
pains to hide his opinion.” After this she wept several 
minutes; then starting up, she exclaimed, “But Avhy Avill 
I let it trouble me? Why should I care Avhat he thinks 
of me? Well, I Avon’t care. He sha’n’t see — he sha’n’t!” 

An hour later, apparently calm and self-possessed, she 
Avas about to enter the draAving-room, Avhere a number of 
the guests have already assembled in dinner attire. 

When Edna reached the threshold she received a shock; 
she would gladly have beaten a retreat, but it Avas too 
late — unfortunately every face Avas toAvard her but the 
trio Avho had chosen her for a subject of conversation, 
rather but one had chosen to talk about ' her; the rest 
were as yet but listeners, and their faces were turned 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


11 


from Edna. The young girl remained on the threshold 
nnable to move as Cora Taunton's words greeted her: 

* ‘ I wrote to mamma that Miss Forrest was our hostess, 
and she writes me a very amusing answer. She says she 
supposes it is the usual case of the beggar on horseback. 
She wonders what the Leightons can be thinking of to 
put a young hireling on a par with ladies and gentlemen." 

She addressed herself directly to Vere Gordon and 
Richard Clifford. 

Edna lost her presence of mind. She could not move 
for the time. 

‘‘Pardon me for disagreeing with you. Miss Taunton. 
Is it a social crime for a woman to be self-supporting? 
Are your women with wealth the only ladies of whom 
you can boast? If so, all I have to say is, may Heaven 
help your republic; as for Miss Forrest, I have only to 
say I feel honored to be a guest under the roof where she 
presides as hostess." 

It was Vere Gordon who spoke, and a dead silence 
followed until Miss Taunton recovered herself and said: 

“Oh! I am glad I gave you an opportunity to be her 
champion," and Cora turned away in chagrin, and 
squandered her smiles for the remainder of the evening 
on the man who thought her perfect, Richard Clifford. 

If Gordon answered Cora, it was lost on Edna. To 
add to her embarrassment, Marcus Tremaine, burly, 
coarse and handsome, made himself conspicuous in his 
loud way as he rose to try to outdo Vere in his champion- 
ship of Edna. 

“Oh, here comes our charming hostess,” he said, as if 
Edna had just appeared, and he walked over to the door 
and offered her his arm. “Indeed, Miss Forrest, we 
feel a great want when you are not here." 

Edna bowed in acknowledgment of the grotesque. 
She saw Gordon start and turn to look at her when her 
name was mentioned. He wondered if she had heard. 
She saw Cora look and shrug her shoulders as if she did 
not care, and Edna's thoughts flew. Her pride, of which 
she had not a little, was thoroughly aroused now. She 
would not forget what her position demanded of her. 

“ It is so nice to know one is missed," she laughed, in 
answer to Tremaine, and the next moment she slipped 
away from him, and was welcoming Mr. Clifford as if noth- 


12 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


ing unpleasant had happened. So perfect was her manner 
that the guests were relieved of their embarrassment, 
and some of them could not believe she had heard Cora’s 
remarks. The situation was restored to its usual cheer- 
fulness when Mr. Leighton and a few others came in and 
dinner was announced. 

What an ordeal that dinner was for Edna! but she 
passed through it bravely. She was glad Yere Gordon 
was not sitting near her. She did not look at him, yet 
he was constantly before her, and her one thought was 
that he was her champion. 


CHAPTER III. 

HIS WIFE. 

When Edna returned to the drawing-room with the 
ladies, having left the gentlemen to their wine and talk, 
her feelings mastered her will. She could not endure 
being alone with them. Her nerves were stretched to 
their utmost tension, and feeling that any moment might 
come the snap, she excused herself on the plea of 
headache. 

When she reached her room she walked the floor with 
a feeling of suffocation. To her the air seemed stifling, 
the blood in her veins afire. 

“ To think,” she said, over and over again in her walk, 
“ that he should say that to her for me!” 

The air grew denser, her fever higher. 

I must go out. “ I shall die if I remain here!” 

She threw a scarf over her head and shoulders, and in 
a few moments she reached the grounds, and handsome 
grounds they were, that surrounded the home of the Phil- 
adelphia banker, and the cold air struck her burning 
brow and she breathed it a nd felt she had gained new 
life. 

She turned into a path lined on either side by thickly 
growing evergreens. Here she could walk unobserved 
by any one coming from or approaching the house, yet 
she had taken but a few steps in her retreat when she 
suddenly became conscious of a quick footstep behind 
her. Instead of pausing or looking back she hurried on, 
and the footsteps crushing the dry leaves and twigs, hur- 
ried after her and a voice that made her heart leap, said: 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


13 


“ One moment. Miss Forrest.” 

She turned and stood still, and Vere Gordon, taking 
his cigar from his lips, stood before her. 

“ I came out for a breath of fresh air just in time to see 
you turn down here. Won’t you catch your death of 
cold, with nothing but that light thing around you?” 

“It felt suffocating in there, and I thought a little ex- 
ercise would do me good. I hadn’t a chance to yun out 
all day,” stammered Edna. 

“Won’t you take my arm?” he said, softly. 

Edna’s heart beat faster. 

“Thank you, but I will go in now.” 

She made an attempt to pass him, but he planted him- 
self in her path. Neither spoke. He puffed his cigar 
vigorously; then, as if suddenly thinking of himself, he 
said: 

“ I beg your pardon,” and threw it away. “ I am 
sorry I spoiled your walk. I am sure you would not re- 
turn so soon, had I not come upon the scene. Well, it 
is my usual luck, eternally making myself disagreeable to 
you,” and he laughed. 

Edna’s lip trembled; again that stifling sensation was 
upon her. She held out her hand. It lay in his a few 
moments before she could say: 

“I am indebted to you more than I can say for your 
noble defense of me this evening. To say I thank you is 
indeed but a poor acknowledgment.” 

“Ah, I was afraid you heard it,” he said more to him- 
self than to her. 

“I am sorry you had to offend Miss Taunton for me,” 
faltered Edna. 

“ Yes, so am I sorry,-” he said, still holding her hand. 
“ There should have been no occasion for her saying 
what she did. Clearly you are to blame. You should 
not occupy this position; you should be the wife of some 
good man, who would be able to protect you from these 
sneers and insults, who could put you in a position that 
would court the flattery even of those who envied you. 
Why don’t you marry Tremaine?” 

She tried to draw her hand from his, but he held it 
tightly. What a cruel speech it was! The tears rolled 
down her cheeks. 


14 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR . 


“ Mr. Gordon, I shall never marry a man I do not 
love.” 

“ Then he asked yon to marry him?” 

“ He did, but I said nothing about it to the Leightons, 
as I refused him.” 

“ What a brave little girl you are to refuse millions, 
but he seems to be as attentive as ever?” said Yere, 
eagerly. 

“ He would not take No for an answer. He says I will 
come to my senses some day. If that day ever comes, it 
will be the day I discover 1 love him.” 

If that day ever comes! Ah, who can boast of the mor- 
row ? 

“ May I go now?” she said again, trying to take her 
hand. 

He held it more tightly as he said with a sigh that 
puzzled one to know whether it was genuine or pre- 
tended: 

“ How I wish you loved me!” 

Edna looked up at him. 

“Mr. Gordon, please don’t make fun of me to-night. 
You have been too kind for me to quarrel with you.” 

“Make fun of you! I have never made fun of you. 
Been kind to you to-night! Why should I be ? Is it any 
great praise for a man to stand up in defense of the 
woman he loves ? Edna, I love you. You have tortured 
me for three months, and I can stand it no longer. To 
see you occupy the position you do here drives me mad. 
You said you could never marry the man you did not love. 
Oh, may 1 hope the day will come when you can say, ‘ I 
will be your wife.’” 

The words fell from his lips in a torrent of passionate 
love. It was this young man’s desperate way of doing 
things. 

He permitted her to withdraw her hand from his now. 
She stepped back and looked at him. Then, in a pitiful 
little voice, she said: 

“ Do you mean it ?” 

“ Mean it!” and he clasped her to his bosom. “Oh, 
Edna, your words bid me hope. You care a little — just 
a little for me ?” 

“ I never dreamed of such happiness as this,” was her 
answer. “I wonder if I am really awake.” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


15 


“ Then you care for me ? You have cared for me when 
you tormented me ?” 

“ Oh, I loved you so much — it was you who tormented 
— at times I wished I was dead.” 

“ My darling, now I have the right to call you so,” and 
he took her face between his hands and kissed her lips; 
“ and you will name an early wedding day,” and again 
his arms are about her. 

“ Oh, I must think over that,” she said, with a happy 
laugh. “ Won’t you let me go now, Mr. Gordon?” 

“ Mr. Gordon!” 

The name, when he uttered it himself, seemed to have 
a strange effect upon him. He did not say “Call me 
Vere.” His arms fell from about her. Great beads of 
perspiration stood out upon his forehead. He clasped 
her in his arms again in his desperate way, and his voice 
was hoarse as he said: 

“Yes, you had better go, now. It is very cold here.” 

He kissed her again, and she ran away. 

“ Great God, why did I meet her out here to-night? 
But I knew it would be so. I knew I could not always 
be strong, and she loves me.” 

He wiped the perspiration from his brow when he spoke; 
then he lighted another cigar and walked up and down 
the path. 

“ If I had only kept still ! It has been a base decep- 
tion. I had no right to speak to her — no right. "Will 
she accept my love as an excuse? I’ll get no deeper in 
the mire.” He stopped in his walk as he said this. 
There was an air of sudden determination in the move- 
ment. “ I’ll leave this house to-night; I’ll go back to 
New York. No, I can’t do that to-night, for I have made 
a business appointment at the Continental to-morrow 
morning. Well, I can leave this house to-night. I can 
do that. I will not see her again until she knows all. 
I’ll write to her making a clean breast of it. I shall leave 
it to her to call me back. I will make business my ex- 
cuse to Mr. Leighton. I will go to-night,” and with this 
determination he hurried to the house. 

He learned that the gentlemen had joined the ladies in 
the drawing-room, and he sent there for Clifford. 

“When are you going back to New York, Dick?” 


16 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“I think I must go to-morrow. I would like to 
stay " 

“But you can’t stay/’ said Gordon, excitedly. “I 
have done what I should not have done. I have played 
the part of the scoundrel at last. I can't tell you to-night. 
Matters have reached a climax. Something must be done. 
What train will you take to-morrow?" 

Clifford looked helpless with surprise. Gordon spoke 
in a tone from which there was no appealing. 

“ I suppose I can take an early train." 

“ Then maybe you can meet me at the Continental. 
I will be there until ten o'clock. I shall leave here 
within an hour." 

Clifford saw that his friend was not in a humor tp an- 
swer questions. 

“ I’ll try to get down in time to go with you to New 
York," Dick said. 

“Is Miss Forrest in the parlor?" asked Gordon, 
abruptly. 

“ No, I believe she has retired ill — that is, I think I 
heard some of the ladies say so." 

“All right, I'll pack up and join you in the parlor. 1 
suppose Mr. Leighton is there?" 

“Yes.” 

“Very well. I’ll come in to say good-bye." 

Gordon moved rapidly when Clifford left him. He 
gave himself no time to think. In twenty minutes he 
was excusing his abrupt departure to Mr. Leighton, and 
ten minutes after was being driven to the Continental 
Hotel. 

Edna was sitting in her room with a happy glow in 
her face. There was no stifling sensation now, no mad 
fever of the brain. 

“And he loved me all the time!" she said to herself 
over and over again. “ Oh, it is so like a dream, a happy, 
happy dream! I hope nothing will ever happen to awaken 
me.” 

What delightful moments they were, as she sat there 
dreaming on and on until a knock on the door startled 
her, and a maid came in to say: 

“ There is a woman here, Miss Forrest, who insists on 
seeing you, as she says her business is very important." 

“A woman — this hour!" 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


17 


The clock struck ten as Edna spoke. Her happy dream 
was broken, but only broken for the present, not ended. 
Oh, no; such a thought did not enter Edna’s head. 
There was no presentiment of approaching evil. She 
had a curiosity to see this woman, to know her impor- 
tant business. 

“She wants to see you alone, miss.” 

“Then show her in here, Kate,” and Edna stepped to- 
ward the door, and as the servant opened it, just outside, 
Edna saw the most beautiful face her eyes ever heheld. 

It was the face of a woman, young and fascinatingly 
beautiful, a woman who was not afraid to look at Edna. 

Edna’s interest increased, and her voice trembled a lit- 
tle as she said graciously: 

“ Won’t you come in?” 

The woman stepped in and closed the door, leaving 
the maid on the outside. She looked at the door again 
to make sure it was closed. There was an air of mystery 
about the woman that startled Edna. 

“Don’t be frightened,” the woman said. 

Edna was not frightened, but her pulses throbbed. 
Her voice was unnaturally calm when she said: 

“May I ask who you are, and what is your business at 
this late hour?” 

“ I am your friend. The hour is late. I was here be- 
fore this evening, but I could not see you. I had to go 
back to the city, and it took so long to get out here 
again. I am your friend, and I have come here to ask 
you to be mine.” 

The pleading of a passionate temperament was in the 
young woman’s voice. 

Now for the first time Edna thought the woman might 
be the bearer of evil news. 

“ How are you my friend, and what can I do for you ?” 

“ I have come in time to save you from a life of 
misery — from throwing away your happiness.” 

This woman had something to say about Vere Gordon. 
This thought came to Edna, and she put out her hand 
like one warding off a blow, but the woman pitilessly 
continued: 

“ You are engaged to be married to Vere Gordon ” 

“ What is Vere Gordon to you ?” Edna gasped. 

“ For Heaven’s sake be strong — God knows I do not 


18 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


•want to hurt you, but you should know the truth. You 
will thank me for it by and by ” 

“Have mercy— tell me quickly!” 

“ Vere Gordon is my husband — the father of my 
child.” 

“It is false!” 

“ It is true. I can prove it.” 

“ Where are your proofs ?” 

“ I will bring them to you. They were to be forwarded 
to me from England, but they have not yet arrived.” 

“ Will you see Yere Gordon here— here before my face, 
and charge him with this ?” 

“I will,” answered the woman, determinedly. 

Edna summoned all her strength. She rang the bell. 
Neither spoke until the maid appeared. 

“Is Mr. Gordon in the drawing-room ?” said Edna, 
opening the door and speaking to the maid in a low tone. 

“ Mr. Gordon left very suddenly for New York, miss.” 

“ Mr. Gordon gone!” Edna grasped the door for sup- 
port. 

“ Yes, miss, he is on his way to the depot now. John 
is driving him down.” 

Gone, and without seeing her! Oh, God! this woman’s 
story, it must be true! Yere saw her and escaped. 

These were Edna’s thoughts as she said to the maid: 

“That will do.”. 

She closed the door and would have fallen, but the 
Avoman avIio brought her this misery caught her. 

“ Oh, for Heaven’s sake, miss, be strong!” 

“I — I am strong,” gasped Edna. “You spoke of 
proofs. Will you bring them to me?” 

“ Yes; I may get them to-morrow.” 

“ That will do — that will do. You may go now.” 

“ Oh, indeed, miss, I am sorry 

“ Never mind — go — please go while I am strong. None 
of these people must know your errand here.” 

“ They shall not know.” 

“Then go,” and Edna opened the door, “and come 
to-morroAv if you get your proofs. Go.” 

The Avoman passed out. Edna watched her doAvn the 
stairs and heard the hall door close after her. Then 
Edna crossed the hall and Avalked almost to the end of it. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


19 


She opened a door; the gas was turned low, but the room 
was deserted. 

It was Vere’s room, and Edna looked about it. She 
opened the wardrobe. His clothes — everything belonging 
to him was gone. 

She left the room; she tried to walk quickly. She 
made a desperate effort to reach her own room, but her 
footsteps failed; the hall danced round her. 

Ten minutes later the household was thrown into a 
state of alarm. 

A servant had found Miss Forrest lying prone in the 
ball. Then the ladies were kind enough to remember 
that Edna had said she was not well. 


CHAPTER IV. 

A STRANGE AFFAIR. 

Next morning a gentleman steps out of the Conti- 
nental and is making his way toward the carriage wait- 
ing to take him to the depot, but near as it is he receives 
a shock before he reaches it. A woman’s little hand 
gives him the shock, and a woman’s handsome, derisive 
face confronts him. 

“My God!” and he staggers back, white and trem- 
bling. 

“Don’t make a scene, I beg of you,” the young woman 
says in a suppressed voice, but there is a dangerous flash 
in her eyes. “ Vere Gordon, aren’t you glad to see your 
wife and child?” 

She is holding a lovely little girl of some three years 
by the hand, and she draws it toward Gordon as she 
speaks. 

“Wait— wait!” the man gasps, “give me time to real- 
ize it is you!” 

“ Indeed, we meet in the nick of time. I was going 
to Miss Edna Forrest with proofs of our marriage. You 
see, I know everything. I have not been idle, though it 
has taken me a long, weary time to track you.” 

“You were going to Miss Forrest? Good God, that 
would have- been a terrible mistake! Hetty, I thought 
you had left me forever.” 

“And how you rejoiced in the thought!” she said de- 
risively. 


20 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“I was glad to be free.” He had partly recovered 
himself, and spoke those words in a deep, low voice. 
“ Come, we cannot talk here. The carriage is waiting 
to take me to the depot. If you will drive with me we 
can talk.” 

“Very well,” she says. “ Come, Baby.” 

“1 will put her in,” Gordon says. “ Poor little Bea, 
won’t you kiss me?” 

“ Kiss your papa, dear,” says Bea’s mamma, loudly. 

“ You must have stolen the child from my sister,” he 
says when they are seated in the carriage. 

“ Since you think your sister would not give her to me, 

I must have stolen her. Did they not acquaint you with 
the fact? You should have heard it by this time. I’ve 
no doubt you will find plenty of European mail when you 
return to New York. You see I am posted as to your 
movements.” 

He looks earnestly at the handsome, derisive face, as 
he says: 

“ Hetty, why have you stolen the child? Why have 
you followed me? You know we never could live hap- 
pily together, and since we discovered our marriage was 
illegal ” 

“ Hush!” You ruined my life; you married me by 
fraud ” 

“ Not intentionally, Hetty. You know that I was not 
aware the marriage was illegal any more than you until 
after Beatrix was born. ” 

“Bah!” she says, contemptuously. “ You would not 
have cast me off so easily when you discovered it, if it 
were not all planned beforehand.” 

“Oh, Hetty, Hetty, you know that you were only too 
willing to leave me!” 

“ That was because I did not know any better. I 
thought I was doing the right thing to leave you Avhen I 
was not married to you. I was young and foolish and I 
did not know what the world thought about such things; 
but you did, and you let me go,” she said, fiercely. 

Gordon leaned back in the carriage. His lips tightened 
as if he did not wish to speak. He had suffered all that 
man could suffer at this woman’s hands, he thought, and 
here she was to torture him again. Here she was sitting 
before him with brazen, derisive face, when lie thought 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


21 


himself rid of her forever. When he thought of such 
suffering as he had endured, it was enough to drive him 
mad, and he said in desperation: 

“ Why have you come back to torture me?” 

“Because the world has not treated me well, and I 
wanted my baby. I insist on you making our marriage 
good. You must marry me here ” 

Gordon's face turned a deathly pallor. 

“ What if I refuse?” 

The words seemed to snap from his bloodless lips. 

“What if you refuse!” she cried, with blazing eyes. 
“I will denounce you to the woman you intended to 
marry, and that you will think directly is the least I will 
do, for it is in my power to ruin your father — ruin him 
pecuniarily and socially, and that ruin for him in Eng- 
land means ruin for you all, no matter in what part of 
the globe you may be. ” 

He knew this girl well enough to . know she made no 
idle threat; yet he said, sneeringly: 

“ Since when did you come by such wonderful power?” 

“ Since the Gage case; perhaps you have not heard of 
it,” she says, imitating his tone. 

He does not speak for some time. His face has changed, 
and not for the better, with the intensity of his emotions. 

“I am going to New York,” he began. 

“ Not until we are married,” she interrupted, quietly. 

He looked at her, and it was a dangerous look. 

“ For our child's sake,” she said, softly. 

He looked softened as he turned his eyes on the little 
child. 

“Come with me to New York; I am not acquainted 
here.” 

“ I shall go nowhere with you until we are married.” 

“ But I told you I am not acquainted here.” 

“Isn’t there a mayor? Can't he marry us?” 

Gordon was silent for some moments. His face be- 
trayed that dark passions were gaining supremacy. 

He put his head out of the window and spoke to the 
driver, and presently the horses’ heads were turned in 
another direction. 

“ I'll do it — we shall be married by the mayor,” he 
says, in a suppressed voice, and he turned his gaze to the 
window. 


22 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


The fair face of the man was a study, and the dark eyes 
of the woman were fixed upon it. There were pain and 
bitterness and emotion in the face. She understood every 
emotion, all the better, perhaps, as she understood the 
man. She was glad she saw the determination, for it 
told her that this man, in spite of his pain, in spite of 
his bitterness, had that moral strength that leads to right 
action. 

She hoped the office of the city’s magistrate was not far 
distant. Even such determination as Vere’s might give 
out, and the silence became unbearable. 

“ I think you might speak to me — and you might take 
the baby in your arms and be a bit fatherly.” 

“ Hush, hush!” 

He waved his hand toward her, and he spoke as if he 
could bear no more. She smiled as he again looked out 
of the window — she smiled at what she considered his 
weakness. As a matter of course, this beautiful, un- 
principled creature thought the very strength of this 
man’s character was weakness. 

The carriage stopped at last, and her heart stood still 
as he hesitated a moment, but the next he was on the 
pavement, saying to the driver: 

“Wait here.” 

She stepped out quickly, saying in a voice that 
trembled in spite of her: 

“Take Bea!” 

He did not seem to hear her, yet he took the little 
tliree-year-old, who put up her arms to him. He turned 
away with her, and did not pause until he reached the 
mayor’s office. He didn’t speak nor look at Hetty, but 
she followed his footsteps closely. 

“ This is strange — strange getting married for the 
second time; but you will have it done right this time — 
for the child’s sake, you know,” she says pleadingly. 

“ Remain here,” was all he said, and he went away 
with the child in his arms as if he had forgotten that he 
was holding her. 

Hetty kept her eyes on him. She saw him speak to 
one man, then to another, and some fifteen minutes later 
he came to her and said: 

“Come.” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


23 


His face was livid as he took his place by her side be- 
fore the major. 

“ Let Bea down,” Hetty whispered. 

Vere started. He looked at the child, and let her slip 
from him. The look of determination vanished. He 
drew away from Hetty. The situation dawned upon him. 
He was mad to do this thing, mad. What would the 
world say? The world! What cared he for the world! 
What would she say? In this agonizing moment he saw 
only her face, he thought only of her verdict. It was the 
face and the verdict of the woman he loved. 

“ For our child's sake!” Hetty whispered, clinging to 
him. 

“ Yes, for the child's sake,” he murmured, and in the 
presence of the child they were bound by the civil con- 
tract that made them man and wife. 


CHAPTER V. 

WILL SHE ? 

All day long Edna waited for th« proof of Vere Gor- 
don's marriage. She had spent a sleepless night after 
recovering from her fainting spell, and no need to say 
the day was wretched. 

Her illness and fainting last evening, were an excuse for 
her keeping her room to-day. Would that beautiful 
demon come to her again ? for in spite of her beauty and 
passionate pleadings, and even of her wrong, Edna could 
only think of her as a demon who had ruined her happi- 
ness. Could it be true that Vere Gordon was a married 
man? His running away last night went a great way to 
confirm this fact, yet Edna was not without a faint hope, 
that hope that is in every breast; that what they believe 
in is true until it is proved utterly false. 

The day passed slowly, torturously, and no word from 
Vere, and no word from the woman who claimed to be 
his wife. Knowing that he was found out, would he 
send no word to ask her forgiveness. He cared some- 
thing for her, she reasoned, or he would not have ex- 
pressed himself as he did. She could not believe his ac- 
tions were prompted by the basest of feelings, yet what 
else could she think. But was he vile enough to let her 
think so? — to off or no explanation? She grasped at the 


24 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


thought of the possibility of some horrible mistake as 
daylight faded away and the woman came not. She 
nursed this thought and it strengthened her somewhat to 
attend to her duties, which were to see to the comforts of 
and to entertain Mr. Leighton’s guests. 

She dressed for dinner, with the horrible dread of 
meeting all these people again. Cora Taunton’s derisive 
face was before her. She was filled with horror at the 
thought of the penetrating glance of that lady. But 
join them she must, and to add to her wretchedness, Mr. 
Tremaine stood at the foot of the stairs as if waiting 
there for her; in fact, he informed her, in his florid style, 
he was there with the hope of meeting her. 

“ Ah, the very lady I wished to see. I trust Miss For- 
rest is better?” 

“ Much better, thank you,” Edna said, trying her ut- 
most to be agreeable. 

“ Ah, I am glad to hear that. I have something to 
say to you. Miss Forrest. Where can I have a few unin- 
terrupted moments with you. Miss Taunton is in the 
parlor now, and they will all be there in a few min- 
utes.” 

Edna could scarcely conceal her annoyance. Every 
day she found it harder to rid herself of this gentleman’s 
attentions. There was nothing for her now but to give 
him the few moments he asked; it was an effectual way, 
perhaps, of getting rid of him for the evening; and she 
led the way to the library, saying, as she pushed open the 
door: 

“ I don’t think we will be disturbed here.” 

“Notunless Miss Taunton knows we are here; then 
she would be bound to drop in for a book, of course.” 

He laughed, but there was indignation in the laugh. 
Edna forced herself to smile. 

“ When I think,” he said, his laugh ceasing and his 
indignation increasing, “ of the insult she offered you 
last night, it makes my blood boil; it does indeed. A 
lovely, accomplished girl like you should not be in a po- 
sition to suffer such insults.” . 

“ I am not at all ashamed of my position, Mr. Tre- 
maine; the mistake was on Miss Taunton’s side,” said 
Edna, with a dignity that charmed Marcus Tremaine, 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


25 


and she added quietly: “ You said you had something to 
say to me, Mr. Tremaine/’ 

If Edna thought this would cut Mr. Tremaine short 
she was mistaken, for he went straight on with the sub- 
ject she wished ended. 

“ This is just the thing I wished to say to you,” he 
said, bluntly. “ You know what I think of you, and I 
can’t forgive Miss Taunton for what she said, and you 
have no right to court such insults. This is no position 
for you ! You are fitted for ” 

“ Mr. Tremaine, I beg you will excuse me. I thank 
you for your sympathy, and let us dismiss the subject 
with that. Besides, I must remind you dinner will be 
served in a few minutes.” 

She rose as she spoke, but the New York speculator 
was not going to let her escape so easily. Some months 
ago he had made up his mind Edna Forrest was the girl 
he wanted for a wife. He argued that as he was a man 
of great wealth he was entitled to anything his money 
could bring him. He would not like to frankly acknowl- 
edge, even to himself, that he was buying a wife, but he 
was not sentimental — he had no room, no time for senti- 
ment. All his speculations were given to material things. 
He had no time for the analysis' of love. No doubt if he 
was questioned as to his feelings toward Miss Forrest he 
would say he loved her, and his answer would be truthful 
after the manner of his thought. He knew he liked her 
better than any young lady he knew. He had been look- 
ing about for a wife too, and he selected her for many 
reasons. He liked her better than any other. She was 
very young, she was a beauty, and (Marcus Tremaine was 
shrewd) she would develop into a very brilliant woman, 
and that was most essential for a man with wealth. He 
wanted a woman who could display it for him to the 
best advantage, a woman who would attract — wealth be- 
ing hers — the most brilliant and notable people in town. 
That was the sort of establishment he wanted to lmve, 
and none but a brilliant woman could make it for him. 
Summing up Mr. Tremaine’s calculations on this point, 
he thought he ought to get the best in the land for his 
money. 

“Oh, no,” he said, placing himself between her and 
the door. “ You are not going until you hear what I 


26 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


have to say. I am going back to New York to-morrow, 
and I would like to take your final answer with me.” 

“ You have my final answer, Mr. Tremaine,” said 
Edna, coloring. 

“Oh, no, I haven’t,” he said good-naturedly; “true, 
you have put me off, but that is the way of most women. 
I have never taken your answer as final; why should I?” 

Why should he! Edna was amazed. How could she 
answer his question. If she was not so very wretched, 
she would be amused; as it was, she could not help 
smiling, as she said: 

“You should take it for final, I suppose, because I 
meant what I said; I really do not know any other rea- 
son.” 

“Oh, nonsense; I have found out that women never 
know what they are talking about — I beg pardon! I in- 
tended to say that your sex never mean what you say. 
Now, now, no more protests,” he said, with a wave of his 
hand. 

Edna was silent in the moment of silence he allowed. 
Whether it was the man’s cool assurance or the force of 
his character, she could not think at that moment, but 
she was unable to offer further protest, and after the 
slight pause, he said: 

“ It hurts me to see you in this position. You have 
no right to remain where these high-stepping women 
trod you under foot. Let me protect you from all this. 
There is room for you here,” and Mr. Tremaine touched 
his breast in the direction of his heart. His breast was 
certainly large, but as to the dimensions of his heart — 
well, Edna will find that out soon enough. “Little girl, 
no one will ever be able to hurt you after you are my wife,” 
and he stroked her hair as he spoke. 

True, Marcus Tremaine’s manner and speech were the 
reverse of the refined, only there was a heartiness about 
them for the time — a genuine kindness that touched 
Edna. He had not the qualities that made her fall des- 
perately in love with Yere Gordon; but was not thiswish 
to protect her from all harm the essence of manliness; 
and if it were true what she had heard of Yere Gordon, 
did he not do her the greatest harm that any one could 
do her in this life? 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


27 


The thought flashed upon Edna, and she said, with 
some emotion: 

“ Believe me, Mr. Tremaine, I appreciate your kind 
intention, but I cannot ” 

“ Oh, don’t say that, for you will, and I’ll come here 
for your answer before I go away at noon to-morrow.” 

He dropped his hand from her hair, caressingly, to 
her shoulder, lingered in silence for a moment, then 
bowed and left her. 

She sank in a chair; an influence she could not resist 
came over her, and a few minutes later the question that 
startled her was: Would she ever consent to be Marcus 
Tremaine’s wife? She asked herself the question, then 
caught herself at it and was startled. 

“ What an absurd question!” she said, rising, “what 
an absurd question. I will, he said, and I am foolish 
enough to say will I?” 

A servant came to say dinner was awaiting Miss Forrest, 
and he presented a letter that had just been left by the 
postman; 

Edna glanced at the envelope. It was Vere Gordon’s 
handwriting on an envelope of the Continental Hotel. 

The room went round as she looked at it. 

The servant’s inquiry as to whether she was ill brought 
her to her senses. 

“ No, it is nothing,” she gasped. “You may announce 
dinner.” 

She thrust the letter in her pocket. She must not read 
it until dinner is over. She hurried to the parlor, and 
as she entered her eyes met Mr. Tremaine’s and his eyes 
said: 

“You wilir 


CHAPTER VI. 

A LETTER AND TELEGRAM. 

“ Too bad Gordon left last night. This evening’s news 
would give us a grand joke on him,” said young Will 
Rowley, another of Mr. Leighton’s guests, as he finished 
his soup. 

“ Oh, did you hear Mr. Gordon was called away sud- 
denly last night?” said Mr. Leighton to Edna. 

As he had not seen Edna all day he did not know 
whether she had heard of the departure. 


28 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“And Mr. Clifford left us this morning,” continued 
Mr. Leighton. 

“I believe one of the servants told me/’ Edna said. 

“What’s the joke, Mr. Rowley?” asked Tremaine. 

“ Why, there was a very strange marriage to-day by 
the mayor; everybody is talking about it.” 

“What has that to do with Gordon?” asked Tremaine. 

“ You don’t mean to say Mr. Gordon was married by 
the mayor?” said Cora Taunton. 

“ Whoever the man was he gave his name as Vere 
Gordon. The bride was very beautiful.” 

“Well, that would have been a good one on Gordon. 
Too bad he left for New York last night,” said Tremaine, 
laughing. 

“ Mr. Gordon did not leave last night, for Mr. Clifford 
told me he was to meet him at the Continental, and they 
were going to New York together,” said Cora, quickly. 

Edna’s spoon almost dropped in her plate. She could 
not control her nerves; her hand trembled visibly. Cora 
took pains to let Edna know she noticed her. 

“ Your news makes Miss Forrest nervous,” she said. 

“Why should it?” said Mr. Leighton, coming to 
Edna’s rescue as he saw what a deathly color she was. 
“She is not foolish enough to think it was Vere Gordon, 
her friend.” 

“ No, indeed, sir,” Edna tried to say in a steady voice. 
And she thought, “ I would be foolish indeed to think this 
of him. The worst I can think is he was married to that 
woman, and if he was married to her, how could he be 
married this morning?” She had not time to think 
further, for attention was attracted by Rowley saying: 

“ I think there is something strange about it; Vere 
Gordon is not a common name, you know.” 

“Oh, come; it would be enough to joke Gordon about 
this if lie were here; but you can’t think seriously of it. 
Gordon isn’t the fellow to make such a fool of himself as 
the gentleman who was married by the mayor,” said 
Tremaine. 

“ Oh, there is no telling what a man in love will do,” 
laughed Miss Taunton. ‘ ‘ I wonder what Mr. Gordon will 
say when he hears his name has had such a circulation 
here?” 

The conversation, fortunately, took a merry turn at 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


29 


this part, anti Edna was spared further comment on Vere 
Gordon until they were leaving the dining-room, when 
Cora Taunton said: 

“You look wretched to-night. Miss Forrest. I hope 
you are not letting the news of that strange marriage 
alfect you. I really don't believe it tvas Mr. Gordon," 
concluded Cora, in a tone of mock consolation. 

“ Neither do I," said Edna quietly, though her blood 
tingled at this fresh insult. 

“Now, if Miss Forrest were missing, we would say she 
was the beautiful bride of this morning," said Cora with 
more derision. 

“ But Miss Forrest is here, and she wishes she could be 
charitable enough t to believe Miss Taunton thought her 
missing, when Miss Taunton indulged in the aimless 
sarcasm," said Edna, goaded to madness, and she turned 
quickly and left the room, not daring to trust herself to 
speak further. 

“ What have I said?” asked Cora, innocently; then 
with a shrug, and loud enough for her voice to reach 
Edna: “but considering the source, that is just what one 
might expect. You cannot expect such people to con- 
trol their tempers. 

The words followed Edna like so many darts of fire. 

“ I won't remain in this position, I won’t ! I will starve 
first. Mr. Tremaine spoke the truth. I have no right 
to remain where lam trodden upon!" 

She was in her room now and the hot tears were flow- 
ing down her cheeks. 

“ To think she would even seize upon this marriage to 
insult me. How strange that his name should be used. 
Ah, the letter!" 

She thrust her hand into her pocket and the next 
moment she was reading: 

“ My own Darling, — I will call you so, if I never 
see you again, for you will always be that to me. With- 
out doubt you will be surprised at my sudden departure 
this evening, but I could not see you again. I had no 
right to see you at all this evening — that is to see you and 
talk to you as I did, but the temptation was so great, and 
I had concealed my feelings so long, that in a moment of 
weakness I fell from my good resolutions, and you were 
in my arms and I was pouring out my great love for you. 


80 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


But I had no right to speak until I had first made a con- 
fession. until I had first told you I had been guilty of a 
gross deception. I wanted to let you read the dark page 
of my life, I wanted you to judge of my sin— if sin I 
should call it. I can prove to you that I meant no wrong 
though I have won your love under false pretenses. That 
is my crime, and yet if you are true I know you will for- 
give me. I should not have left the house without mak- 
ing a revelation to you, but I am under promise not to 
speak. I will soon be relieved from my burden — a bur- 
den I was cursed in taking upon myself the first day, but 
once relieved, I will come to you and tell you all — that is 
if you send but the word — if you will write to New York 
and say, Yere, I love you, come to me. In what anguish 
of spirit I shall wait for these words will never be known 
to any one but the man who loves you. 

“ Veke Gordon.” 

The letter was slow reading; it was hastily, discon- 
nectedly written, and Edna, after going over every sen- 
tence again and again, was in a state of confusion. What 
sense could she take from his wild words? Her heart 
beat alternately with hope and fear. He had committed 
a fraud, he was carrying a sin, he had taken upon him- 
self a burden that was his curse. What fraud had he 
committed? What was his sin — his burden? It is the 
woman, was Edna’s mental answer to her thoughts. If 
she is not his wife, he has wronged her, or he is innocent 
and she has some claim upon him that he has not been 
able to set aside. 

“Oh, God,” she cried in anguish, “what hope is there 
for me? It grows darker and darker. What shall I say 
to him? He loves me — yes, he loves me now — and what 
can I say to him? What shall I write? Oh, if I could 
only see that woman now, if I could see or hear from 
her ” 

There is a knock on the door. It is a telegram for 
Edna. It is from New York. She reads it. The room 
reels, a mist gathers over her eyes. Her wish has been 
answered. She has heard from the woman. She sinks 
in the chair she has caught. 

“Oh, God, let me die!” she cried. 

She rubs her eyes, and again she reads that terrible 
telegram, that death-knell to every hope. 


MARRIED BY THE MA^X>R. 


31 


“ I promised you proofs of my marriage, but I forgot 
to tell you there were some legal techuicalities. They, 
however, are removed now, and you will find in the rec- 
ords of the mayor’s office all the legal proof you may re- 
quire of my marriage, which was solemnized there this 
morning. I caught him in the nick of time at the Con- 
tinental, and he made right what was wrong, for which 
you should be thankful as well as I.” 

“ Mbs. Vere Goudov.” 

Now she understood his letter. Everything was as 
plain as day. The woman had a claim upon him; that 
was why he said he had no right to speak to her (Edna). 
He thought last night, by the tone of his letter, that he 
could rid himself of the woman who claimed him, per- 
haps by every right recognized by Heaven, but to-day he 
found he could not, and — and, he was compelled to sat- 
isfy her claim. Now there was no excusing his conduct. 
The woman’s claim, he acknowledged by his conduct to- 
day, was just. 

“ But he loves me!” 

The cry was wrung from the suffering heart and it es- 
caped her lips before sbe knew it. But the moment the 
feeling was breathed out she tried to crush it. 

“ Thank God that I received this telegram in time. 
I shall answer his letter now; answer it as he deserves. 
He shall never know what he is making me suffer.” 

And with that rash impulse she sat down and answered 
his letter. It was a brief answer to all that' wild anguish 
he had sent her. 

“ Vere Gordon, you have played the part of a villain. 
I never want to look on your face again. 

“Edna Forrest.” 

That was all. She directed and stamped the envelope, 
and stood for a moment with it in her hand. 

“ I’ll post it myself,” she said, as if that was the con- 
clusion she had reached. “Even hne of the servants 
shall not know I have written to him.” 


CHAPTEK VII. 

“THE GIRL IS MAD.” 

A few moments later Edna is stealing down-stairs. 
She reached the lower hall unseen, but passing through 


33 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


that she heard Cora Taunton’s laugh. It reminded her 
of Cora’s insults. She paused when she was out on the 
steps in the cold night air. 

“ I shall never come back to this house again,” she 
said, “ I have been insulted on every hand. Who has 
respect for the hired dependent? Did not he, who pre- 
tended to be my champion, offer the grossest insult of 
all? I must leave this house to-night; but where can I 
go? I have not a friend in the world. Oh, Heaven! 
death is preferable to this misery! What is to become of 
me?” 

For one moment the wretched girl thought of the river 
— for one moment only; the next the hall door opened, a 
flood of light streamed out, and with it, Marcus Tremaine. 
What was to become of her? Here was her answer. She 
looked up at him with that thought in her head. A hand 
of ice clutched her heart. 

Here was one who had not insulted her, here was one 
who offered her the highest gift that man had to bestow 
on woman, but last night had she not boasted to the man 
she loved: 

“ Marcus Tremaine says I will come to my senses some 
day, but if that day ever comes, it will be the day I dis- 
cover I love him.” 

Twenty-four hours have scarcely passed since then, and 
what is she considering? Has she come to her senses, or 
has she lost them? Time, the avenger, shall answer that 
question. 

Has she discovered she loves him? Love! what will 
she have to do with love [ever again? What is love 
since he who vowed he loved her only wished her harm? 
Marcus Tremaine could give her all that women valued 
so highly. As his wife, she would never again have to 
suffer insult; she would occupy a position at which 
hone could sneer — a position equal to Vere Gordon’s 
when she met him^again. 

This thought was a grand incentive. They would 
meet again, and she would not be a paid dependent. 
This thought was a strange contradiction to the letter 
in her hand in which she wished never to see his face 
again. 

Alas! it was a woman’s logic. 

“What are you doing here?” said Tremaine, closing 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


‘S'-i 

the door. “ I beg your pardon. I mean it’s so strange 
to see you standing out here in the cold; but the atmos- 
phere is less chilling, perhaps, than some of the company 
inside/’ 

“ I had a letter to post, and I thought I would do it 
myself,” she said. 

“ It isn’t well for you to go alone. I will accompany 
you,” he said, moving down the steps, and buttoning up 
his coat as if the matter were settled. 

She did not speak nor move. He reached the foot of 
the steps and looked up at her. He was about to speak, 
but she said quickly: 

“ Mr. Tremaine, you gave me until to-morrow to con- 
sider your proposal.” 

“Yes; but I will take it now, if you are willing. I 
know you are going to say yes.” 

Was this the daring with which this man conquered 
always, or had he the power to divine the girl’s thoughts? 

She looked up to the starry sky. He saw her face was 
a deathly white. 

“ Don’t be frightened,” he said, stepping up to her. 
“ You will have to accept me some time. You might as 
well take courage and do it now.” 

She does not notice his coolness now, but long after, 
when she thought of this dreadful night, it came back to 
her. 

“If I said yes, Mr. Leighton would never consent to 
it,” she said. 

“Well, who wants his consent? Tie is nothing to 
you.” 

“ He has been very kind to me.” 

“Nonsense!” he interrupted; “if he won’t give his 
consent, we can be married without it.” 

“ Then I should have to leave this house clandestinely,” 
she said, as if the words came from her lips uncon- 
sciously. 

“And you can do that this very night, if you please. 
Come, say but the word, and we can be married within 
an hour, and no one will dare question the act. A man 
of my wealth and position can do as he pleases.” 

And he stated his belief exactly, as Edna will one day 
find out to her sorrow. 


84 MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 

“ Oh, God, save me, or I’m lost!” she thought, with a 
moan. 

“ What is the matter?” and he took her hand. ‘ Why 
do you hesitate? I am sure you will never regret it.” 

Still she hesitated; but she let him hold her hand. 
What conclusion will she come to? 

We will not wait here for her to arrive at it. At mid- 
night we hear the conclusion she came to; hear it as Mr. 
Leighton reads it from a letter he found on his dressing- 
case as he was about to retire. 

“Mr. Leighton, I can never tell you or any one living 
why I have taken this step. I cannot blame you if you 
think me ungrateful, base — everything that is bad. All 
I want you to believe is that I spoke the truth yesterday 
when I said I would never marry Marcus Tremaine. 
It was the truth then; I meant it from my heart, though 
when you are reading these lines I shall have left your 
house to become his wife. Edna Forrest.” 

Mr. Leighton read it again and again before he could 
fairly comprehend it, 

“Heavens and earth — the girl is mad!” he cried. 
“ The girl is mad! What shall I do?” 

He jumped from his chair, and put on his hat and 
coat. 

“ No one in the house must know it; if she be gone, 
I must try to bring her back before it is too late. The 
girl has gone mad. She does not know what she is 
about. It is my duty to stop this marriage if I can.” 

He ordered the carriage. He tried faithfully to over- 
take the runaways, but they had gained too much time. 
He was too late. The police were active, but they could 
not find a trace of the birds that had. flown, and all Mr. 
Leighton accomplished was the very thing he did not 
wish. He spread the news of the elopement, and in the 
morning the city rung with the tidings of the runaway 
match. Late as it happened, there were “ full accounts” 
in the morning papers of the elopement of Miss Edna 
Forrest and the New York millionaire, Marcus Tre- 
maine. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


35 


CHAPTER VIII. 

HOW GORDON TOOK THE HEWS. 

About eleven o’clock next morning, while friends and 
strangers are discussing that unexpected and irretrievable 
step taken by Edna, we invite our reader to a handsome 
bachelor apartment in New York. The solitary occupant 
is a young man, who is seemingly engaged in studying 
images in the grate. 

He has been sitting there still and silent a long time. 
He stretches his feet, now clasps his hands behind his 
head and looks from the grate up to the bric-a-brac over 
the mantel and says to himself: 

“ Well, I wonder how it is going to end?”. 

He must have been studying it out in the coals. 

“I wish I could throw off this — what shall I call it? — ■ 
gloom, misgiving, presentiment of something dark and 
terrible. 1 am allowing my fears to take exaggerated 
forms. She will surely bid me come to her. She will 
give me a hearing, at least, and then — well, then, if she 
love me, all will be well. I thought she might telegraph 
me to come; yes, having told her how I was suffering, she 
might have done that. Will this morning’s mail bring 
me a letter? Will I be in Philadelphia this evening?” 

He did not dream of askiqg himself if he would be on 
his way to Europe this evening. Yet the evening will 
show how little man can forecast even twelve hours of the 
future. As he asked himself the last question, there was 
a knock on the door, and after his invitation to enter, he 
said: 

Hello, Dick! you are a pretty fellow! I thought you 
would meet me at the Continental yesterday morning ?” 
and he pulled a chair to the fire for his visitor. 

“ Well, my intentions were good.” 

“ Could not tear yourself away from the irresistible 
Cora, I suppose ?” 

“Don’t mention her!” said the other, sinking in a 
chair. 

“ What’s the matter ? Have you proposed, and been 
jilted ?” 

Oh, no, no! Never mention that again. When 1 
arrived at the hotel yesterday, you were gone, and — oh, it 
was just as well. I missed you, perhaps.” 


36 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR . 


“ For Heaven’s sake, Dick, wliat lias happened ? Now, 
I look at you, you are as white as a ghost.” 

“Oh, nothing much,” he said, with a bitter laugh; 
“ but I leave for Europe this afternoon — steamer sails at 
two.” 

“You are going to Europe!” 

“ Well, I’m going to England by steamer, but I really 
can’t say now where my destination will be, and as I am 
a living man, I don’t care.. If it were not for the lives of 
others, I wish the steamer would go to the bottom of the 
sea.” 

“ If you are not jilted, for Heaven’s sake what has hap- 
pened ? Excuse me,” he said rising and going to the 
door in answer to a knock. 

“ Your mail, .sir,” said a servant, and before Yere closed 
the door his eye ran over every envelope. 

His heart bounded as he saw on one the Philadelphia 
post-mark. It was directed in an uncertain hand. He 
tore it open, and did not hear Clifford saying: 

“ Of course, I mean to arrange everything satisfactory 
for you, though it detains me a month — What’s the mat- 
ter? Bad news?” 

These questions were brought out by an involuntary 
groan escaping Vere’s lips, as he stood looking at the 
open letter, rather than at the couple of lines written on 
the sheet before him. 

“Yere Gordon, I never want to look on your face 
again.” 

That was all, yet it seemed to take him a long time to 
comprehend it. When he did, he crushed the letter in 
his hand and walked over to the fire. 

You haven’t been jilted?” said Dick, with a dreamy 
smile; then, before Vere had time to reply, he said sud- 
denly: “By Jove, that reminds me of a telegram I have 
to show you. I received it not half an hour ago from 
• Miss Taunton,” and he took the yellow paper from his 
pocket and placed it in Vere’s hand. It read: 

“ I thought the latest news would be interesting to you; 
Miss Forrest eloped with Marcus Tremaine.” 

“ That is a lie!” cried Vere, springing to his feet. 

“It is the truth, for I have had further proof. As I 
was coming here I met John Fosdycke, Tremaine’s bosom 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


37 


friend, and lie has had a telegram from Tremaine — he 
showed it to me — telling him the news I have brought 
you.” 

There is a silence of some moments. Vere Gordon 
stands, his elbow on the mantel, looking down into the 
grate. Without raising his head, he says: 

“ I will go with you this afternoon if I can secure a 
passage. I don’t mind telling you, I have been jilted for 
Marcus Tremaine.” 

Clifford was silent some time before he said: 

“ I don’t know what to say to you, Vere, but you must 
know how I feel for you. Perhaps you had better not 
act too hastily about leaving the country. I don’t think 
you heard me say that I meant to arrange everything for 
you before I went. From this moment let our compact 
cease.” 

“Too late!” said Vere, with a nervous snap of his 
fingers. 

His face and the gesture had more of pain than a vol- 
ume could describe. 

“ Too late !” says Clifford, springing to his feet. “ Great 
heavens, you don’t mean to say our compact has hurt 
you ?” 

There was a silence again; then Vere threw back his 
head with a bitter laugh. 

“No, no, our compact could have had nothing to do 
with making her run off with Tremaine. If that is what 
her love is made of, it is just_ as well, perhaps. Bah, let 
us not talk about it. I don’t want to hear her name 
again. Let us go back as we came —there is no need of 
an explanation now. If we meet our American friends 
again over the water we can tell them we played a joke 
upon them, and we will let it go at that. I’ll get my 
luggage ready now, if you will excuse me, Dick.” 

“ But I want to tell you something that has happened 
to me, Vere.” 

“ If you wish to do me a kindness you will go and se- 
cure me a state-room or a berth or anything you can get, 
and you can tell me all about what lias happened when 
we get on board.” 

Dick is gone, and Vere alone once more smooths out 
the crumpled letter in his hand. He reads it again; then 
says: 


38 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“ And it is not forty-eight hours since she vowed her 
love for me and — and, what was it she said ? If ever I 
marry Marcus Tremaine, it will be when I learn that I 
love him. Has she found out that she loves him ? Bah, 
as if a woman like her knows anything about that sacred 
feeling. There.” 

He drops the letter in the grate, watches it blaze up, 
then turn black. 

“ Is that the end of it ?” He shakes his head. “ Would 
to God I could say it was the end of it for me. What 
have I done that this girl shall ruin my life. Oh, Edna, 
Edna!” 

Her name burst forth with the grief he could not con- 
trol. He rose and walked the floor forgetful of what he 
had to do. 

“ Well,” he said when he was quiet, “ I suppose this is 
what these women with their little souls call a triumph. 
I wonder if we will ever meet again ?” 

Leave it to Father Time, he answers all things. 


CHAPTER IX. 

BEGINNING TO MAKE IT PLEASANT FOR HER. 

There is a brilliant gathering at a wealthy, fashion- 
able house on Fifth Avenue. It is in honor of Miss Cora 
Taunton’s return from Europe and her engagement to 
Count Blandenburgh. Mrs. Taunton’s motherly bosom 
swells with pride to-night, though up to three months 
ago it had been filled with doubts and fears for Cora, who 
had been five seasons out, but to-night Mrs. Taunton 
thinks her daughter has made up for the delay by making 
an engagement that will torture so many American belles 
with envy. 

Cora looks resplendent in white silk, and gauze, and 
diamonds. Her eyes are as bright, her skin as satiny, 
and her tongue as sharp as when we first met her two 
years ago. 

“ Mr. Tremaine is here, but I do not see his wife,” she 
is saying to an old friend who has been telling her all the 
news. “ I met him abroad a few months ago, in Flor- 
ence; his wife was not with him then; he told me he 
had just run over on business. If it were the business 
that engaged him in Florence, that brought him over, I 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


39 


was not surprised that he left his wife at home. He was 
engaged in a desperate flirtation. I say desperate, be- 
cause Tremaine was so earnest with Lady Landimer, a 
gay, fascinating countess, about whom there is a good 
joke. All Europe, I believe, says she is forever following 
her husband, but never overtaking him. Acquaintance 
of husband and wife said that Lord Landimere had waited 
two weeks over the time his wife appointed to meet him 
in Florence. He rose one morning, and if the truth 
were known, left in disgust, and that very day her lady- 
ship arrived, and when she was told of her husband’s de- 
parture, she laughed heartily, and said most innocently: 
‘l knew he would be gone, it is so like him, you know,’ 
which perhaps goes to prove that many a serious word is 
said in a jesr,” and Cora laughed as she said: “Mr. Tre- 
maine arrived the day after the couutess, and as 1 told 
you a desperate flirtation followed, and all Florence 
talked about it.” 

“ That would not be pleasant news for Mrs. Tremaine. 
I wonder how she would act if she received a shock? I 
can’t imagine, she is so white, and quiet, and statue-like. 
When she came here first she acted like- one in a maze — 
like a dreamer who had no aim.” 

“ I’ve no doubt she was in a maze,” laughed Cora. 
“ You know she was only a servant when Mr. Tremaine 
married her.” 

“Oh, not a servant,” said Miss Bellport, the young 
lady talking to Cora. “ She was the companion and 
friend of Miss Leighton, and, indeed, Mrs. Tremaine is 
a beautiful girl.” 

“ Of course Tremaine married her for her beauty. I 
guess he has had enough of it, though. You say she 
goes out very little?” 

“I don’t think she has been out this season — at least I 
haven’t met her, and I heard she did not go out at all. I 
met her once last season, and I believe she receives very 
little now, though the first winter she came here she re- 
ceived a great deal; her entertainments were on a mag- 
nificent scale, you know. Ah, there is Mr. Tremaine! I 
hope he was not near us. I don’t think we were speak- 
ing in a very guarded tone,” said Miss Be-llford, dropping 
her voice to a whisper as her eyes fell on Marcus Tre- 
maine. 


40 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


They had not been speaking in a very guarded tone, 
and Mr. Tremaine being very near, heard every word that 
Cora said about his home and foreign relations. He 
moved away when Cora said: 

“Of course he married her for her beauty.” 

He could scarcely control his indignation, his anger, at 
this point. Naturally, my reader will think Mr. Tre- 
maine’s indignation and anger are against Cora Taunton, 
but if my reader has arrived at this conclusion, it is be- 
cause he is not yet thoroughly acquainted with Marcus 
Tremaine. His indignation is against the girl who had 
the misfortune to run away with him one night, two 
years ago, because she did not know what else to do, or 
better still, because she did not know what she was doing. 
His anger is against himself. 

“ Yes,” he says, in his thoughts echoing the latter part 
of Cora’s sentence, “for her beauty; what a fool I was! 
For her beauty and her elegance and her culture. ” 

Then he mentally dashes her elegance and her culture, 
and he stands where he thinks he will not be observed and 
looks back at Cora and comments upon her. 

“ I don’t know but she is about right; she always was. 
What could I expect. I should have married a girl like 
Cora; she was brilliant enough for. a count and I could 
have caught her with my money if I wasn’t such a fool. 
She wouldn’t have had any scruples about how I made 
my money, nor lecture me on the extravagant use of it. 
Oh, no, a New York girl has no such nonsense. I 
thought I was shrewd, but I wasn’t shrewd for a cent 
when I married a quiet little Quakeress. She is so quiet 
and white — nice things for people to say about her, I 
suppose the next thing will be that she has some secret 
trouble. By Jove, she does act like that!” he said, as if 
something had suddenly dawned upon him. “She does 
act strangely!” 

He turns that sentence over in his mind again and 
again. He becomes restless, and presently leaves the 
house for home. On arriving there he notices what, at 
another time, might escape his attention; the house, an 
imposing structure finely located, is almost dark, though 
it is scarcely half-past ten. A faint light m the hall, and 
a fainter one in the parlor, are all that relieve it from 
total darkness. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


41 


He walks up-stairs in a sort of quiet fury. He enters 
his wife’s sitting-room, where he expects to find her. She 
is not there, rather he does not see her, for this room is 
in darkness also save where the light falls through an 
open door from a room adjoining. He steps to the 
threshold of this door, and pauses suddenly. 

He sees his wife sitting before the dressing-table as if 
she had been preparing to retire, for her hair is hanging 
in a shining mass around her, while her elbows rest on 
the table, and her face is buried in her hands. 

“ Edna!” 

His voice is sharp. She raises her head quickly, and 
the face he sees in the glass looks bewildered, and is as 
white as if it were the face of a statue. She turns 
partly toward him as she says: 

“ Aren’t you home early?” 

“ Nice home it is to come to! It’s as dark and cold- 
looking as a prison.” 

‘ ‘ A prison !” 

She rubs her hands together' as the words fall from her 
lips. The hopelessness of the gesture spoke volumes, 
but Marcus Tremaine did not understand it. A prison, 
he said, and that is what she had thought for two years. 
She was surrounded with all that money could buy, but 
the bars being of gold made it no less a prison. 

“ Yes, a prison,” he says. 

She tries to rouse herself, to shake otf some feeling 
that has fallen upon her. 

“ If I thought you would be at home so early,” she be- 
gan, but he interrupts her with increasing anger: 

“You would turn on the lights, I suppose; but are 
you never at home to any one? Is the house in darkness 
every night that I am not here?” 

She does not answer. 

“Do you not go out any more?” 

Her hand sweeps across her forehead ostensibly for the 
purpose of pushing back her hair; but perhaps it is to 
clear away something else that is blinding her senses. 

“ You do not answer,” he says. 

She raises her eyes slowly to his face, and they rest 
steadily there as she says: 

“ I was wondering whether you thought I ought to go 
out to-night; out where you went, I mean.” 


43 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“ Of course I did. I expect you to go everywhere you 
are asked unless you have a better reason for staying at 
home than making a prisoner or a nun of yourself.” 

“Surely you know 1 had a better reason than either 
you mentioned for staying at home to-night.” 

Her look was eager as she said this. 

“ I know of no good reason you could have.” 

The eager look disappears and the hopelessness comes 
back. She has learned long ago that she has nothing to 
expect from this man. Ilis coarseness, his lack of feel- 
ing is killing her. 

“Two years is along time — a longtime,” she says 
wearily, “still it is not long enough to make me forget 
that, to say the least, I have no good reason to join a 
gathering to-night in honor of Miss Cora Taunton. I 
have not forgotten her insults, if you have.” 

If the last three little words have any edge for him he 
does not show it. Indeed, it is not likely they hurt him 
in the sense of making him feel that he had disrespected 
his wife in accepting Mrs. Taunton’s invitation, for he 
showed brutal indignation as he said: 

“Bah! As if society people gave such things a second 
thought! No wonder you don’t shine if you let such 
trifles trouble you.” 

Trifles! was not to save her from these “trifles” his 
most urgent reason why she should accept him two years 
ago? Was he not loudest then in resenting Miss Taun- 
ton’s insults? The words rose to her lips to tell him so, 
but would it be any use? She felt the links she had 
forged sink deeper into her flesh. She spread her wings 
only to feel how hard were the golden bars. 

“ I don t want to shine in a society whose love is made 
up of Judas’ kisses,” she says, with some desperation. 

He had stepped into the room, and was walking the 
floor like a caged animal. He stopped suddenly as she 
spoke. 

“You don’t want to shine in society! you don't /” and 
his face fairly blazed. “ Well, I wish you had had the 
kindness to tell me that before I married you.” 

She looks at him with something more than astonish- 
ment. There is a startled look in her eyes, and he looks 
in them squarely as he says: 


MARRIED BY TI1E MAYOR. 


43 


“Yes, I mean it — you should have told me that before 
I married you.” 

A faint redness creeps into the cheeks that have been 
colorless for months. Her chin is slightly elevated. She 
is now a faint impression of what she was the first clay 
we met her speaking to Vere Gordon in Mr. Leighton’s 
parlor. 

“ Perhaps I would have told you, had I known that 
was why yon wished to marry me.” 

He does not answer at once. This phase of Edna’s 
character surprised him. There is contempt in her 
words, there is defiance in her look. His manner changes 
instantly. If he stopped to analyze his feelings, without 
doubt he would find out he was .pleased. He didn’t think 
she conld “ flare up ” like that. 

Marcus Tremaine is your bullying sort of man, who 
likes a woman of spirit, simply for the pleasure of con- 
quering her. 

He shrinks for a moment under her gaze, and his voice 
is lower as he says: 

“ You know what I mean. A man likes to show his 
wife off, especially when he can do it in grand style; he 
likes to have his wife and his house and his entertain- 
ments and all that the talk of the town.” 

Edna shuddered. She does not want to be the talk of 
the town in that sense. She never can believe in the vul- 
gar display her husband requires her to make; but for all 
that, his words had for her a stinging reproof. She al- 
ways meant to please him. It was her duty to do that. 
The sin she committed in marrying him long since came 
home to her. She did not love him nor could she ever. 
He had not even the traits to command her respect, but 
she had always said: 

“I will do my duty though it kill me.” 

Had she kept her word ? No; she had spent her days 
in regret and sorrow, and her dreams were haunted by the 
face of an image that kept its place in her heart in spite 
of her. 

She is no longer defiant. The color is gone and her 
lip trembles. 

“ I always meant to do what was right. I want to do 
my duty as your wife.” 

Sobs choke her and she buries her face in her hands. 


44 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


Her defiance was too short-lived. He conquered her so 
easily that he is his ugly, bullying self once more, all the 
uglier because that word duty brought back that feeling 
which was roused at Mrs. Taunton’s when he said to him- 
self: 

“ She does act strangely!” 

“ Your duty as my wife!” he says now. “Then it is 
duty — simply duty — that prompts you to act where I am 
concerned?” 

He waits for her answer, but not receiving it, he says: 

“ Am I to take your silence for an affirmative reply?” 

She raises her face — it is a sorrowful face indeed. 

“I Avant to please you,” she says, piteously, “tell me, 
Avhat do you want me to do?” 

He understood the evasion. She wanted him to ask 
her no more questions in that line. He turned from her 
and walked the floor without a word, but his thoughts 
Avere busy. 

“ Duty! by Jove, I like that,” he is thinking. “ I have 
come upon something to-night. She has not acted 
strangely for nothing, and she isn’t quite the angel I 
thought her. She has taken pains to let me knoAv she is 
away above me.” This is Mr. Tremaine’s evil construc- 
tion of Edna’s conduct. Instead of taking pains to shoAv 
him that with all his money he Avas not her equal, she 
tried to hide her feelings on that point. She tried to hide 
her feelings, but they Avere revealed when she could not 
approve of his vulgarity, Avhen she could not listen Avitli- 
out a dissenting voice, Avhen he unbosomed his gambling 
speculations in Wall Street to her. She did not show 
him that she was above him, but he felt it — and now he 
thinks, no wonder, she acts strangely. “ What was her 
object in marrying me? For my money, of course. She 
Avanted to put herself in a pleasant place. Well, I’ll make 
it pleasant for her in a moment.” 

“You want to please me?” lie says, turning to her 
again. 

“ Yes,” she says, eagerly, “ Avhat do you wish me to 
do?” 

“ I want you to entertain as you did a year ago. Give 
a ball that Avill astonish even the much-feted New 
Yorkers — Avill you set about it at once?” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


45 


“Yes; I shall lose no time, and it will be all that you 
desire,” she says, quietly. 

“ And you will not forget to invite Cora Taunton,” lie 
says, quietly. 

“ Cora Taunton! Surely, you are jesting.” 

I never was more in earnest in my life,” he says, 
coolly. “ Why should you think me jesting?” 

“ How could I think you in earnest?” said Edna, look- 
ing at him as if she doubted him still. “Our conversa- 
tion not fifteen minutes ago- ” 

“Bah! trifles, I told you, trifles! Set your whims 
aside, if you please. No entertainment is complete this 
season without Cora. She is the rage. Think of it — 
engaged to a nobleman, and all that sort of thing.” 

He turned to go, but before he reached the threshold, 
she said: 

“ Marcus — one moment, please. I have something to 
say to you.” 

When he turned to her she was standing. He saw her 
hand leave her heart as if she had pressed it a moment to 
still some agitation. 

What could she think but this man who had sworn to 
love and cherish her was putting upon her a deliberate 

insult. 

It might be an insult, but he called it making it pleasant 
for her. 

“ Marcus, I want to do my duty — I want to please 
you ” 

He interrupted her with a suppressed oath. That word 
duty again was too much for him. 

“ If you are so anxious to do your duty — your first 
duty is obedience, and you are to do what I ask you — to 
do it before I make it a command.” 

There is no mistaking his meaning. She takes a step 
forward and leans her hand on the mantel as if for sup- 
port. Her eyes are flashing though her voice is calm as 
she says: 

“Let me understand you. Do you mean to say that 
you will command me to receive Cora Taunton?” 

“ That is it exactly,” he says, without a moment’s hesi- 
tation; “ but of course you won’t compel me to do that. 
You will invite Miss Taunton of your own sweet will.” 

“ I will not. My self-respect would be the price of my 


46 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


obedience to you in this matter, and I am not willing to 
pay it. ” 

He looks at her a few moments. The color is in her 
cheeks again. He wonders how long she will be obsti- 
nate. 

“ Well,” he says, “we won’t quarrel about the invita- 
tion. I will send it myself.” 

“ You may invite Miss Taunton, but you cannot com- 
pel me to receive her. You had better understand that 
perfectly now; it would be unpleasant to have a grievous 
disarrangement the night of the ball.” 

“ We shall see,” he said, after a few moments’ pause. 

He left the room as he spoke. 

“By Jove!” he thought, “I believe she could be a 
perfect little fury if she chose. I didn’t think it was in 
her. I am afraid I’ve put my foot in it. She looks as if 
she meant to keep her word.” 


CHAPTER X. 

LADY LANDIMERE. 

Edna certainly meant to keep her word. Of this her 
husband is more convinced next day when he asks her if 
she has attended to the preliminary .arrangements, lie 
introduced the subject again, to learn whether she still 
kept her ground. 

“No,” she answered, quietly, “I have no wish, Mar- 
cus, to place you in an unpleasant position; I adhere to 
what I said last night, and under those circumstances I 
did not know whether you wished arrangements to go on 
that never could be completed.” 

His face clouded, but before he could answer her there 
was a knock on the door, and a servant came in with a 
telegram for Mr. Tremaine. 

if was a cablegram from Paris. It read : 

“Can you come over? Important. Will be in Paris 
several weeks. H. L.” 

Tremaine’s florid face fairly blazed, as he redd these 
words with apparent agitation. 

Edna is looking at him. She never saw his manner 
change so suddenly. 

He looks at the paper a long time. If his wife knew 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


47 


how those words made his heart throb. It is a call that 
he is only too willing to respond to. 

“ It is fortunate, perhaps,” he is thinking. “Now I 
can retreat without having to give in, for I believe that 
is what I should have to do, for she seems as firm as a 
rock.” 

When he came to this conclusion, he looked up and 
started in a guilty manner. 

“ We won’t have the ball,” he says; “I am called to 
Paris on important business.” 

Edna’s heart gave a bound of delight, and she has 
nothing to say until he rises and walks to the door. 

“ When are you going?” she asks. 

“ I shall go on the first steamer out. That will be on 
Saturday. I have to answer the telegram at once, and — 
let me see.” 

He paused when he caught the glad expression of her 
face. 

“ She has triumphed,” he thought, “of course — of course 
she is glad to get rid of me. Of course, when she mar- 
ried me for my money, she can enjoy it' all the more 
when I am away. I hate to do it, for she will be in my 
way. Yes, I hate to do it, but I will, just for spite. I’ll 
take her with we.” 

“It’s short notice,” he says, abruptly; “but get ready. 
I want you to go with me. ” 

He did not wait for her reply. He took it for granted 
she would go. 

She dropped in the chair she had risen from as she said 
with a sigh : 

“ Well, the unexpected is sometimes fortunate. Any- 
thing but that ball. For Europe on Saturday — Europe. 
Vere went back to Europe? I wonder ” 

Instead of finishing her sentence she buried her face in 
her hands; then suddenly raised it, saying: 

“Oh, am I mad enough to hope for such a thing? Did 
I not write to him that I wished never to see his face 
again?” 

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she hastily brushed 
them away, saying: 

“ I have no time for grief now.” 

She was rising when her eyes fell on the telegram 
her husband had dropped. She picked up the paper and 


48 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


was about to throw it on the table, when her eyes took 
in what was written on it. This was mere chance, as she 
never had any curiosity about her husband’s business. 
That it was anything else but business she had not a doubt, 
and when she read — 

“ Can you come over? Important. Will be in Paris 
several weeks, perhaps. H. L.," she said: 

“Umph! some speculating arrangement, I suppose. 
A corner in something, as usual.” 

That is all she thought about the telegram to-day, but 
an event occurred just a fortnight later that brings every 
word in the telegram back most forcibly. 

They are in Paris, and Edna has accepted an invita- 
tion from Lady Malverny for the opera for that evening. 
When Tremaine comes in to dress for dinner — he is to 
dine out with a party of gentlemen, he tells his wife — he 
says to her he is very sorry he cannot go to the opera 
with her, that these gentlemen are meeting at dinner for 
the purpose of talking over business, and he must be one 
of them, and to make his excuses accordingly to Lady 
Malverny and he will join them before the opera is over. 

She takes what he says in good faith, but he has left 
her only a few moments when that faith receives a ter- 
rible shock. She found a note on the floor of her dress- 
ing-room. Evidently it fell from a pocket of the coat 
her husband had thrown in his hurry over a chair. It 
was a most entertaining epistle. 

“ My darling Marcus,” it read, “do you know I always 
think I am making a mistake in the spelling of your 
name. I am so used to the nobility. I think it ought 
to be Marquis instead of Marcus, but what is in a name? 
Nothing at all, since like aU dear Americans, you are 
nature’s nobleman. I am so sorry, dearest, that I was out 
yesterday when you called. Quite a mistake I assure you, 
but you will come to-night and dine with me, and I will 
try my best to make up for your disappointment. Do 
you know I got a dreadful scare to-day. 1 heard my lord 
was coming back to Paris. I was about to expire, but 
was revived by the news that he had turned up in Flor- 
ence. Dear old Florence! How often have 1 dreamed 
of the lovely time we had there last fall — but, there, I 
won’t bore you — at my old tricks you see, writing long let- 
ters. Now be punctual, and what a dear old idiot you 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


4'J 


were to bring your wife. I shall take much pleasure in 
calling on her. — H.” 

Edna sat motionless for one long hour with that note 
in her hand. 

And this was the man for whom she had scourged herself 
because she married him without loving him. How she 
deplored her sin against “ such a good man.” How she 
had striven to do her duty because she had sinned against 
him. And he was this. 

With that thought she held up the note. He was this. 
She thought of the insult he offered her before they left 
home, and she thought of that telegram signed H. L. 
Was it from this woman, who signed herself H. ? She 
believed it was. 

Like one in a dream she dresses herself and awaits Lady 
Malverny ’s coming. She cannot think what step she 
ought to take, and she has no one in the wide world to 
advise her. 

Lady Malverny calls, and noticing Edna’s extreme 
pallor she cannot help asking Mrs. Tremaine if she is 

ill. 

Edna says she thinks she has not quite recovered from 
the voyage, but she knows she will be better for going 
out. 

The curtain drops on the second act of “ Lucia ” when 
there is a ripple caused by some new arrival on the op- 
posite side of the house. 

“ Oh, my Lady Landimere has arrived,” says Lady 
Malverny, with a light laugh and a sarcastic expression. 
“ How,” says her ladyship to Edna, “you will have an 
opportunity, Mrs. Tremaine, of seeing the handsomest 
woman in Paris, rather that is what they say of Lady 
Landimere,” and Lady Malverny laughs again. 

“ Where shall I look ?” asks Edna. 

“ She has just passed into the box opposite. I will let 
you know when she shows her beautiful face.” 

But Lady Landimere did not sit so she could be seen, 
which greatly annoyed Lady Malverny. 

“I wish you could see her; I’ve no doubt you will meet 
her though; she goes everywhere, and is always creating 
a sensation. She has the name of always following her 
husband but never catching up with him.” 


50 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“ Is he always running away from her?” asks Edna, 
who is forcing herself to be interested. 

“ That is the secret. Whether his lordship leaves too 
soon, or his wife comes too late, are two of the things 
that cannot be found out. Strange she keeps behind the 
curtain to-night. They say she is very shy at times — 
perhaps this is one of her shy nights,” laughed her lady- 
ship, and Marcus Tremaine came in at her words. 

“Good evening. Lady Malverny! Whose shy night is 
this!” 

“ Lady Landimere’s. I want to show Mrs. Tremaine the 
handsomost woman in Paris, but she keeps well out of 
sight.” 

Tremaine moves uneasily as he says: 

“ Is Lady Landimere here? I shall have to pay my re- 
spects to her. We are old friends, you know.” 

There is something in his voice that makes Edna in- 
stantly suspect Lady Landimere as the writer of the note. 
L. was one of the initials signed to the cablegram, and 
when Tremaine leaves the box before the end of the act, 
Edna says to Lady Malverny: 

“ What is Lady Landimere’s Christian name? Do you 
know, Lady Malverny?” 

“ I believe it is Henrietta. Yes, I remember now 
reading of her as Lady Henrietta Landimere.” 

“ Henrietta Landimere,” repeats Edna to herself. “ I 
knew it; something told me H. L. were her initials.” 

Marcus Tremaine was so taken up with Lady Landi- 
mere, or somebody, that he did not return to Lady 
Malverny’s box. 

Edna thought the opera would never end. She knew 
her husband was with that woman. He had forgotten 
the courtesy due to Lady Malverny, even if lie wished to 
slight his wife. Edna was humiliated and indignant as 
she left the box with Lady Malverny to seek their car- 
riage alone. 

“ Ah, there is Lady Landimere,” says Lady Malverny, 
as they reached the floor to the auditorium. 

“ There — behind your hus ” 

Lady Malverny has time to say no more, for Marcus 
Tremaine is standing before her, saying: 

“Pardon my delay, ladies; I thought I would reach 
your box before you left it. Edna, I want to introduce 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


51 


you to Lady Landimere.” He moved back and presented 
a beautiful woman who was a step behind him. 

Edna’s eyes fall on her, and a faint, gasping sound 
comes from her lips, and she reels, and would have fallen 
bi\t her husband caught her arm. 

“Edna, what is the matter?” he whispers in alarm. 

She cannot speak, she cannot tell him that the woman 
he calls Lady Landimere came to her two years ago and 
claimed Vere Gordon for her husband She cannot tell 
him, that but for this woman, who has now taken him 
also from her, she would never have been his wife. 

My Lady Landimere stands for a moment like one 
petrified. She knows what is the matter with Mrs. Tre- 
maine. 


CHARTER XI. 

TIIE MYSTERY TO TREMAINE. 

Tremaine carried his fainting wife to the foyer. Lady 
Malverny accompanied them, but Lady Landimere did 
■ not move for some moments. She let the crowd pass her. 
She was not hesitating as to whether she would follow 
and offer her services or sympathies to the fainting girl. 
No; Lady Landimere had received a shock from which 
she did not recover at once. When she collected her 
senses and fairly understood what had happened she mur- 
mured: 

“ To meet her again, and here, here as Ms wife ! Well, 
wonders will never cease!” 

Lady Landimere sought her carriage as quickly as the 
throng would permit her. 

Edna recovered in a few minntes. She stared at Tre- 
maine and Lady Malverny and all the people who in- 
sisted, as only idle curiosity can insist, on having a peep 
at her. 

“ What has happened? What docs it all mean?” she 
said, putting her hand to her head as if trying to think, 
and at the same time attempting to sit up. 

“ Wait a moment, dear; don’t try to sit up yet,” said 
Lady Malverny, gently keeping her prostrate. 

Lady Malverny was scarcely heard, for at the same time 
Tremaine, bending over his wife said, crossly enough: 

“ Why, I was presenting you to Lady Landimere when 


52 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


yon fainted, and just see what a commotion you have 
raised.” 

He was angry because he was prevented from accom- 
panying Lady Landimere to her carriage and concluding 
the arrangements for a little trip down the Seine to-mor- 
row. 

When he said this he hurried away, saying he wished 
to see that Lady Malverny’s carriage was in readiness for 
her; but the real purpose of his hurry was the hope that 
he would overtake Lady Landimere. This he did not do, 
however, and when he returned for his wife his annoy- 
ance was ill-concealed. Yet Edna did not see it. She 
was thinking of Lady Landimere, and that was her one 
thought as they drove back to the hotel. 

Can this woman, she asked herself, be the woman who 
two years ago claimed Vere Gordon for her husband? If 
she is, how comes she to be Lady Landimere? If she is! 
thought Edna, impatiently. As if there is room for a 
doubt, as if I would mistake the bold black eyes that have 
haunted me ever since — the bewitching face that was 
stamped on my memory with a fiery brand. Is thisbeau- 
tiful fiend my evil star? Edna groaned inwardly as she 
thought that two years ago this woman took from her the 
man who asked her to be his wife, who swore he loved 
her — and now she takes from her the man who made her 
his wife, and swore to love and honor and cherish her. 
How could God let such things be? 

Oh, the mockery of that question! Asking Divine in- 
terference in a godless marriage. Did she ask God’s 
blessing before she stepped to the altar? What did her 
nod of affirmation signify when the man of God asked 
her if she promised to love, honor and obey Marcus Tre- 
maine? These thoughts will come to her in the loneli- 
ness of the night, but they are not hers now. How are 
Lady Landimere and Vere Gordon’s wife one? That was 
the all-important question. 

Was Vere Gordon dead? The chill of death came 
over Edna at this thought, but why that feeling? Un- 
known to herself did she nurture the hope of meeting 
Vere G'ordon again? Poor weak, womanly heart, if you 
could only know that Vere Gordon dead would at least be a 
safeguard against the cruelest misery yet! But what wife 
is wise at nineteen, and the weak "heart grew stronger 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


53 


with the next thought. Perhaps this woman was sep- 
arated from Vere Gordon, that she is an adventuress 
figuring under the title of Lady Landimere, and that 
Lord Landimere is only a myth. Who ever met Lord 
Landimere? 

The carriage stopped as Edna asked herself this ques- 
tion. 

“ I will go up to your apartment, Mrs. Tremaine. You 
are not well; you look so cold and white, I must see that 
your maid knows what to do for you.” 

“ Oh, Edna’s color need not frighten you, Lady Mal- 
verny — rather the absence of it. She never has any,” 
said Tremaine lightly, as he stepped out of the carriage. 

Edna begged her ladyship not to take the trouble, 
saying she was quite well now, but Lady Malverny in- 
sisted and Edna was pleased, for she was intent on ask- 
ing Lady Malverny if she had ever met Lord Landi- 
mere. 

They were going up-stairs, when Tremaine met a 
gentleman who stopped him, having something very im- 
portant to say to him. The ladies reached the corridor, 
when Edna looked back and saw her husband lingering. 

“ I hope he won’t come up at once, and I will have a 
chance to speak to Lady Malverny.” 

Edna’s apartment was on the first corridor, and Lady 
Malverny took the lead and was some little distance in 
advance. Edna’s thoughts were so busy, her footsteps 
were slow. 

“ I am sure,” she is thinking, “ Lady Malverny did 
not tell me she met him. Has any one ever met Lord 
Landimere? He is always gone before her ladyship 
arrives. Lord Landimere never appears upon the scene.” 

A faint cry escaped Edna’s lips before this thought 
was finished as a gentleman turned an angle and almost 
ran against her. Has Lord Landimere appeared upon 
the scene? 

The tall, bronzed, broad-shouldered man would have 
passed on, perhaps, but the swaying of the girlish figure, 
and the faint murmur made him look down at her, and 
with the look he put out his hand, thinking the lady 
needed his assistance, but the next moment his hand fell 
to his side, and the lady might have fallen for all he 


54 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 

could have done to prevent it. He recoiled, his bronzed 
face paled, his lips tightened with a, gasp. 

The swaying figure recovered itself. She looked up, 
her. lips parted, but no sound came from them. 

The maiTs recoil was but momentary. He looked into 
the woman’s eyes. He stood erect, his tightened lips 
gave wa} r . He raised his hat and said: 

“ Pardon me, Mrs. Tremaine.” 

It was all he said, and he went his way. 

The encounter lasted but a few moments. It was so 
short that Edna could not believe it had taken place. 
She was bewildered. Had she met Vere Gordon or Lord 
Landimere, or was it an apparition, the outcome of her 
intense thoughts? 

She did not look after the man of flesh and blood, or 
of thin air, or whatever he might be. In her bewilder- 
ment she rushed after Lady Malverny, who now had her 
hand on the door of Edna’s apartment, and turned, ex- 
pecting to see Edna at her side. 

Her ladyship’s hand dropped from the knob as she 
looked in consternation at Edna. 

“ Why, I thought you were with me. What has hap- 
pened?” 

Edna grasped her ladyship’s arm. 

“ Look, look quickly!” and Edna pulled Lady Malverny 
forward and pointed to the gentleman who was about dis- 
appearing down the stairs. “ Is that Lord Landimere ?” 

Lady Malverny was so startled by Edna’s conduct that 
she scarcely, saw the man. He was gone before she 
recovered her breath. 

“ I don’t know — that is, I am not sure,” stammered 
her ladyship. “I think the gentleman is too tall 
for ” 

Her ladyship hesitated, and Edna, in a sort of despera- 
tion, pushed open the door, entered the room with un- 
certain step, and sinking in the nearest chair, said, 
breathlessly: 

“ Lady Malverny, is there such a person as Lord Landi- 
mere ? Have you ever met him ? Do you know him ?” 

“Why, Mrs. Tremaine!” and Lady Malverny’s smiling 
look of amazement said: Whatever has got into your 
head ? “ Of course there, is such a person as Lord Landi- 

mere. I am slightly acquainted — that is, I have met 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


55 

him. You know he is the gentleman that always disap- 
pears on his wife’s advent. Lady Landi mere’s hus- 
band ” 

If Lady Malverny had control of her feelings she would 
not have paused so abruptly; she succumbed to the shock 
her thought gave her as she mentioned Lady Landimere’s 
name. Wa§ Mrs. Tremaine jealous of her husband ? 
This was the question that rose in Lady Malverny’s mind, 
and Lady Landimere’s name presented it. Was that the 
cause of Mrs. Tremaine’s fainting, and is her mind 
affected by it ? Surely, this thinking she met Lord 
Landimere must be purely imaginary. 

“Then there is such a person,” Edna said. 

“ Yes, dear,” said Lady Malverny, gently placing her 
hand on Edna’s brow, expecting to find it feverish, but 
there is the reverse of fever. “ How cold you are,” and 
Lady Malverny’s hand slipped down to Edna’s; that, too, 
was like ice. “Let me ring for your maid. You must 
have these light clothes removed and be made warm and 
comfortable.” 

“ Please do not take further trouble. Indeed, I am 
well, dear Lady Malverny, and — and — I want to ask 
you ” . * 

The door opened and her husband came in. He came 
in with some bustle. His face looked brimming over 
with news, and he imparted it instantly. 

“Edna, whom do you suppose I saw?” and he imme- 
diately answered the question himself. “Our old ac- 
quaintance, Vere Gordon. Don’t you remember Cape 
May, Mr. Leighton’s? I guess he did not see me, though 
I thought he looked straight at me. I don’t think he 
could have forgotten me. He was gone before I could 
hail him. Vere Gordon was an Englishman, wasn’t he?” 
It was well he did not wait for Edna’s reply. She was 
not able to give one. “I tell you Paris is the place to 
meet any one you have ever run across anywhere under 
the sun.” 

“Then that must have been Lord Landimere we saw, 
for Lord Landimere was Vere Gordon before he came 
into the earldom,” said Lady Malverny. 

“What!” cried Tremaine, a pallor spreading over his 
ruddy face. “Lord Landimere — Lord Landimere in 
Paris! Lord Landimere was Vere Gordon!” 


56 MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 

“I don’t know whether it is the Vere Gordon of your 
acquaintance.” 

“We met him at one of our watering-places some two 
years ago/’ says Tremaine, with white eagerness. 

“ It must be he, for it was shortly after he returned 
from America two years ago, that Vere Gordon quite un- 
expectedly inherited his title.” 

There was a dead silence. Neither husband nor wife 
said a word in response to Lady Malverny’s statement. 
Edna was looking blankly before her; Tremaine seemed 
growing whiter every moment. 

Lady Malverny must be stupid indeed if she could not 
see that something was wrong. To say the least, they 
had reached an unpleasant situation, and Lady Malverny, 
with the tact of the woman of the world, turned the con- 
versation to Edna’s illness, and with a few sentences 
gracefully retired from the scene. 

Tremaine was only too anxious to escort Lady Malverny 
to her carriage. 

“ Were you talking to Lord Landimere?” was almost 
the first thing he said to Lady Malverny. 

“ No, it was Mrs. Tremaine who met him. I scarcely 
caught a glimpse of him when she asked me if he were 
not Lord Landimere,” said her ladyship. 

“Edna met him — Edna asked you that? Why how 
did she know he was Lord Landimere?” said Tremaine, 
curiosity for the moment taking the place of the fear that 
had entered his heart when he realized Lady Landimere’s 
husband was in Paris unknown to her. 

“ Oh, I suppose she had heard it,” said Lady Malverny, 
who was glad she had reached her carriage. 

This was a strange affair about Lord Landimere, and 
her ladyship was afraid of another question from Tre- 
maine lest she should get into deep water. 

Yes, it was a strange affair, Tremaine thought, as he 
went back to his apartment. What his lordship meant 
by being in Paris, unknown to his wife, troubled Tre- 
maine. It gave him a cold, uncomfortable feeling. He 
had heard it was a common occurrence for the injured 
husband to avenge his honor at the point of the sword 
here in France. The thought sent a shiver over Tre- 
maine. Could it be possible Landimere was playing the 
part of a spy upon his wife? And now Tremaine came to 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


57 


think of it, Gordon looked at him savagely. Yes, Tre- 
maine was sure he did. And the mystery to him was 
how Edna knew Gordon was Landimere. Well, he would 
clear up that mystery by asking her. And then there 
was something else. What the deuce did Edna faint for 
when he introduced her to Lady Landimere? What was 
her motive? She must have had one, he was sure, for 
women never faint without a motive. 

He entered his room with the determination of probing 
the mystery by questioning Edna, but her maid met him 
on the threshold to say that she had given Mrs. Tremaine 
an opiate, and as she was so frightfully nervous it would 
not be well to disturb her. 

And so the matter resteu. for the night, but the two in- 
terested in the matter did not rest. It was a night of 
much speculation and fear to the husband. He must 
warn Lady Landimere of her danger; but perhaps she 
knows now that Landimere has arrived; he may have ar- 
rived late, and was at his wife’s hotel, perhaps, while she 
was at the opera. Well to-morrow would tell the tale. 
He hoped his lordship was not playing a game, and over 
and over again Tremaine warned himself that he must be 
cautious. He did not want a scandal; he hadn’t thought 
of turning from the path of pleasure he had chosen for 
himself, not a thought of turning from his enchantress, 
but he must be cautious. 

Marcus Tremaine would hate to be found out. 

It would take more time than we have to give to it here 
to go with the wife through the hours of misery that 
night. There was indignation and despair — despair that 
grew out of her sense of loneliness. A stranger in a 
strange land — to whom could she tell her trouble? Who 
could advise her? What redress was there for her? Then 
came the thoughts of revenge. She could be revenged 
on her husband and upon this woman who had twice 
ruined her happiness. She could go to Lord Landimere 
and lay bare his wife’s treachery. The thought grew 
upon her until she was mad with it. It gave her a wild 
joy. Here was a master stroke that would set both Vere 
and herself free, and then — then — She stopped there, 
and there came the fight with the evil one. The result 
will be known to my readers, but the struggle only to the 
woman and her Maker. 


58 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


The stern finger of duty pointed out her way, and she 
must follow in it. If her husband had wandered from 
her, perhaps she was to blame. It was her duty to try 
to win him back. He married her, she thought, with 
the kindliest of hearts, with the best of motives. Who 
had practiced the deception? Not he. He would not 
have married her, perhaps, had he known all. She mar- 
ried him through pique, through pride, through revenge. 
The world, which meant Vere Gordon, was not to know 
what she suffered. She would be his equal when they 
met again. Well, they had met and they were equal. 
He is the betrayed husband, she the betrayed wife. Oh, 
the torture of that thought! It opened an avenue of es- 
cape, but in the darkness of the night she turned from it. 
Vere Gordon’s way and hers lay in opposite directions 
forever more. Her duty was to reclaim her husband. 
In the night she saw the long, cheerless path stretched 
out before her. Yet would duty be duty if it were the 
path we loved to tread? — the green lane that lay in the 
sunlight and all hedged with roses? 

So through the night the man determined to follow 
the bent of his earthly pleasure, so long as he was not 
found out. 

The woman went to her God. 


CHAPTER XII. 

TREMAINE SEES THROUGH IT ALL. 

When husband and wife met next morning, the usual 
appearance of the two was very much changed, lie 
seemed preoccupied, pale and somewhat nervous, she 
looked determined, and the look of pain could scarcely 
be detected in the bright light of her eyes; her cheeks 
too had a tint that came from some inward excitement. 
Her work was cheerless and bitter, but a triumphant 
thought accompanied the incentive. Her work was to 
reclaim her husband from that woman ! 

“ I hope you are better this morning,” Tremaine said, 
glancing up. from his morning paper, as Edna stepped 
into their gorgeous little salon. 

His eyes went back to the paper scarcely noticing her. 

“Oh, I am quite well, again,” she answered, “and 
what a lovely morning it is.” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


59 


There was something in the sound of her voice that 
made Tremaine look up at her. 

The slim figure in creamy lace and cashmere and pink 
ribbons was a vision of loveliness. She had conquered 
self and her face attested the purity and refinement that 
enhanced her loveliness and made the dark-eyed siren in 
his mind pale in contrast. 

“By Jove, you have a little color, you look well, ex- 
tremely well,” and he threw down his paper. 

The pink grew deeper in Edna’s cheeks, and crept up 
her temples. First impressions are everything, she 
thought. It was a propitious beginning, and it sent the 
color to her face. 

The blush pleased Tremaine. Married two years, and 
she is still as simple as a child. His vanity was tickled 
as he looked at her. She belonged to him, and she was 
just lovely, but he wished she had a little more “ show 
off ” about her. 

“ How long will we have to remain in Paris?” she 
asked, as she stepped to the window and looked. 

“ Why, we have only just arrived. You are not tired 
of it before you know anything about it?” 

“ I am longing for Italy,” she said, still looking out; 
“I don’t think I like Paris,” then with a swift motion, 
she turned to him and threw her arms about his neck. 
“ Won’t you take me away, please, Marcus? Can’t we 
go to-day?” 

Tremaine looked surprised, but it was not unmixed 
with pleasure. He was not hardened to the appeal of 
beauty, and this was something unusual for his wife. In 
his surprise he wondered what it meant. He did not. 
answer her at once. If she had made this appeal to him 
yesterday he would have told her without hesitation that 
it was out of the question for him to leave Paris for 
weeks, but yesterday he was not aware Lord Landimere 
was in town. Perhaps he would be glad to leave for 
Italy to-day. He could not tell yet, and he very grace- 
fully told his wife as much. He would see how he could 
arrange his business. This answer was unexpected, and 
it gave Edna greater courage. 

“ If you could leave business for awhile — it has separ- 
ated us so much,” she said, “and I am sure I would en- 
joy Italy with you.” 


60 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


His surprise deepened. 

“ Yes, I’ve no doubt we would have a pleasant time.” 

As he spoke there was a knock on the door. Edna 
stepped across the room and opened it. It was a note 
for Mr. Tremaine. Edna took the square envelope. 
She recognized the handwriting. She thought that 
never again could come such .a test of her strength. 
She faltered but a moment, then crossing the room with 
a steady step, she handed him the note without a word. 

His color changed. He tried to put on a careless air 
as he tore open the envelope. Edna walked to the 
table where a number of papers and magazines were 
scattered, and busied herself arranging them; but he did 
not take the opportunity to read the letter. He thrust it 
into his coat-pocket, but it reminded him of something 
he had to say. 

“ Edna, how was it you knew Gordon was Lord Landi- 
mere?” 

The questiou came very unexpectedly. Edna’s head 
drooped over the papers. 

“ I didn’t know,” she answered. 

“ But Lady Malverny said you did,” and Tremaine 
looked at her without, however, entertaining a thought 
that there was anything on her part to be concealed. 

“ There must be a mistake. I asked Lady Malverny if 
he were Lord Landimere.” 

“ But how did you come to think he was?” said Tre- 
maine, with a little impatience. 

“ I don’t know,” said Edna, helplessly. 

Tremaine rose a little out of temper, while he solemnly 
declared to himself that some women were d d fools. 

“ I will see how I can manage about leaving Paris,” he 
said, buttoning his coat. “We mav be able to leave to- 
day.” 

On the stairs he read Lady Landimere’s note, which 
said that she would be pleased to have Mr. and Mrs. 
Tremaine meet a few friends at her salon at half-past 
one. 

This he knew was simply an invitation for himself 
alone. He told her ladyship last night that she must be 
more discreet in the wording of her epistles, especially as 
his wife was with him. It was a failing with him to be care- 
less about his letters, but as he was warning the countess he 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


R1 

little dreamed that the mischief was already done, and 
the last letter of her ladyship was then in his wife’s pos- 
session. He had some fear of accepting this invitation. 
He thought the matter over. He wanted to go. He had 
that to say to Lady Landimere that he would not trust 
on paper. Well, here was her invitation to meet a few 
friends. He would take it in good faith, and the risk 
with it, and go. 

“ Let me see, I promised to meet Crosby this morning 
— I think I’m a little ' late,” he said, consulting his 
watch, as he reached the foot of the stairs. “ Yes, I am, 
it is half-past twelve, and I haven’t any time to spare. 
Well, I’ll look in and see if he is there.” 

Crosby was the gentleman Avho detained him on the 
stairs last night. He represented a Hew York banking- 
house in Paris. 

Tremaine walked to the reading-room where he was to 
have met Crosby and looked in. Crosby was not there. 
Tremaine was glad, but just as he was retreating from 
the door he caught sight of Crosby just parting with — 

“Gordon as I live!” Tremaine said, referring to the 
man Crosby was leaving. 

Gordon ran quickly as if in haste up the stairs. Crosby 
started for the street and Tremaine after him. 

“Wait a moment, Crosby!” cried Tremaine out of 
breath. 

“ You will have to excuse me. I waited for you 
half an hour,” said Crosby, turning for a moment. 

“I saw you talking to Gordon,” said Tremaine, calling 
his old acquaintance by the most familiar name. 

“Yes", I have to transact some business for him at 
once, and will be closeted with him nearly all the after- 
noon. Sec you this evening.” 

“Where is he staying?” said Tremaine, excitedly. 

“Just where you and' I are staying, at the Louvre. I’ll 
give you half an hour with him if you want it, after that 
he has to attend to business with me — so long!” and 
Crosby broke a Way. 

“ Great heavens! what does this mean? Then her lady- 
ship doesn’t know he is here. I must let her know at 
once. He has an appointment with Crosby for the after- 
noon. My way is clear.” 

Half an hour later he was ushered into the golden 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


62 

light of Lady Landimere’s presence. Her ladyship was 
ready to receive him, though he was early. She looked 
like an oriental beauty set in a golden frame. Her gown 
was a work of art in rich, glowing colors that set off her 
dark beauty against the amber hangings and ebony and 
gold and crystal. 

She looked very much amused when Marcus made his 
appearance. Her smile played more freely when she saw 
his troubled look. 

“I thought you would be early, my dear Marcus/’ she 
said, giving him her hand. “ You are in trouble, you 
are mystified and you have come ta me for a solution. 
Well, I can give it to you,” and her ladyship seated her- 
self among her cushions, leaned back and gave vent to 
her amusement in laughter. 

“ Then you know all — you know Lord Landimere ” 

“Was engaged to your wife before you married her ? 
Precisely,” and her ladyship laughed again. 

Tremaine stared at her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“ Oh, didn’t she tell you all? Ah, that’s what troubles 
you! Yes, she would have been married to him, but I 
stepped in just in the nick of time. I broke up the 
match. You can tell the sort of recollection your wife 
carried of me. You can tell what a sore spot is in her 
memory when she fainted last night at sight of me.” 

“Lady Landimere, are you telling me the truth?” 

“Why, do not our stories correspond? What did she 
say about me? What did she say was the cause of her 
fainting?” 

“ She has told me nothing,” and Tremaine sat down 
in the nearest chair with a sort of thud, the countess’ 
laughter ringing in his ears. 

She told him nothing, but her conduct of two years, of 
last night, of this morning, comes back, and he sees 
through it all. This morning he thought her a child and 
a fool in turn, now he thinks, Marcus Tremaine, you 
have been badly fooled. The fool has outwitted him — 
the child is a clever woman. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


63 


CHAPTER XIII. 

MYSTERIOUS LORD LANDIMERE. 

Tremaine pronounced his wife a clever woman. His 
thoughts went back like a flash over the two years of h is 
married life, and he thought he understood his wife’s con- 
duct now, yet he looked helplessly at Lady Landimere. 

“ You don’t quite understand yet?” she smiled. 

Her smile had the fascination of a beautiful demon. Her 
blue-black hair lay against the amber cushion, lips and 
cheeks glowed, there was a changeable light in the black 
eyes, and her smile showed her pearly teeth to perfection. 

He looked at her a moment or two before he said: 

“No, I don’t quite understand it. I don’t see how it 
could be as you say.” 

“ No,” she said, with a rising inflection that was provok- 
ing. “ You have seen nothing in your wife’s conduct that 
would make you think you were not the preferred suitor? 
Well, what a remarkably clever woman she must be — or 
is it that you are such a dear, kind, unobservant husband? 
Perhaps some of your sympathetic friends would say, 
‘ poor blind man !’ ” 

Tremaine winced, then the color came back to his face 
with a rush. 

“ Your talk is a riddle,” he said as he rose and walked 
the floor. “ How could Lord Landimere have been en- 
gaged two years ago to the lady who is my wife when he 
was your husband at the time? You have told me you 
are married six years.” 

“Exactly!” smiled her ladyship, but seeing Tremaine’s 
anger rising she added: “My statements do seem con- 
fusing; but clo be seated — here sit down beside me and 
see how beautifully clear I can make everything for you 
in a few moments.” 

He accepted her invitation to the seat beside her, and 
she put her little jeweled hand so tenderly over his, as 
she told him how she had married Lord Landimere more 
than six years ago, when he was plain Mr. Gordon. She 
was “ the simple village maiden ” of the story. There 
was something illegal in the form of the marriage. How 
was an unsophisticated country girl to know anything 
about forms; but when little Bea was about a year old he r 


64 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


ladyship discovered the flaw in the marriage, and she was 
horrified at the black sin, as a simple village maiden 
should be, and crazed with horror and grief she ran away 
from her husband, who was not her husband, and 
from her child, who she supposed was her child, 
but she was such an innocent young thing to be a 
mother, that she wasn't even sure about the child. 
Gordon swore that he did not know the marriage was not 
perfect in form, and he was willing to right the wrong. 
But she did not wait for him to repair the injury that 
had been done. She thought it Avas her duty to go away 
and bury herself and her black sin in the furthermost 
ends of the earth. How was she to know what the world 
thought of a woman who separated herself from her hus- 
band until she had tried it F She found out that she 
must have been crazy when she left him and that sweet 
little daughter; for the daughter’s sake she must go back 
— must go and have the marriage made right. But when 
she went back, Gordon was gone, and they wouldn’t let 
her have her baby. It was under the guardianship of the 
aristocratic Miss Gordon, of Gordon Court. Miss Gordon 
looked down upon her brother’s wife, because she was an 
innocent little country girl. Then with tears in the 
lustrous black eyes, Tremaine was told the pitiful story, 
how the lone young mother fought for her child, and 
procured her at last by strategem,"how she followed her 
husband to America, traced him to Cape May, and heard 
there that he was very attentive — engaged — to the beauti- 
ful Miss Edna Forrest. 

Here her story was interrupted by Tremaine, who said, 
excitedly: 

“ No, they never were engaged! I don't believe it. It 
might have been rumored — you know what gossips are — 
but there was no truth in it. He was attentive, that part 
is true enough — very attentive; but I was the favored 
suitor from the first. Miss Sarah Leighton was sure of 
it. I know she was bv the way she invited me to accom- 
pany them to their Philadeplria house. You may take 
it for granted you were misinformed about Lord Landi- 
mere’s engagement.” And Tremaine added the last sen- 
tence with a feeling of great satisfaction in being able to 
let her ladyship know that his wife was not elevpr enough 
to practice such a deception on him, 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


6 ‘> 


“Won’t you have patience a moment?'’ and she 
stroked his hand soothingly. “ I followed you all to the 
Philadelphia 'muse, and the engagement of Vere Gordon 
and Edna Forrest might only have been a rumor, but 1 
chose to take it for granted, and acted boldly upon it. 
I forced myself upon Miss Forrest one night, and what I 
took for granted was true. I was sorry for her. It al- 
most killed her.” And her ladyship described the scene 
that took place. 

“ Then my indignation rose against Vere Gordon. T 
determined then that he should do the right thing by 
me;” and the countess told how she watched Vere Gor- 
don, and caught him leaving the Continental Hotel next 
morning. I confronted him with my child by my side. 1 
threatened to go to Miss Forrest, but I did not tell him 
I had already exposed him, nor have I told him since. I 
also told him it was in my power to disgrace his family — 
Heaven! how 1 wish it was! How I would like to down 
that high-bred sister of his! I pushed him closely, 
for I saw he acted as if his brain was in a whirl, and 
he did as I asked him. I thought he was going to remain 
in America, and we were married that morning by the 
Mayor of Philadephia. Do you not recognize the fact?” 

“Married by the mayor!” cried Tremaine. “Then it 
was Vere Gordon, the guest of Mr. Leighton, that was 
married that morning?” 

“ Yes, and we left for New York at once, and I tele- 
graphed the particulars to Miss Forrest. We left for 
England immediately, and within a year I was raised to 
my present title. It Avas a most unexpected thing. 
Vere was so far removed from the Earl of Landimere, 
that to inherit the title was a thing he never dreamed of. 
Four lives stood between him and the earldom, but 
strange to say, in less than a year there were five deaths; 
the earl and the four nearer in kin than Vere. But though 
Vere Gordon made me a countess, I have not forgotten 
him or his. He would have set me aside, only I was on 
the spot to prevent him and his sister. Well, she looks 
clear over my head even now that I am Countess of Landi- 
mere. How I hate them! Marcus, do you blame me 
that I have no love for him?” 

She nestled closer to him as she asked the question and 
looked up in his eyes. 


66 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“ No, I don’t blame you,” and lie put bis arm about 
her. 

“ I have no hard feelings against your wife. I was 
so sorry for her that night. She was so desperately in 
love with him. Poor girl, I shall never forget her white 
face.” 

Her ladyship dropped her eyes with a sorrowful look, 
then slowly raised them to see the effect of her words on 
Tremaine. His face was white again. His arm slipped 
from around her. She knew that her poisoned dart went 
home. 

His face looked brutal and he barely suppressed an 
oath as he said: 

“ It doesn’t seem possible!” 

“ I wouldn’t let it trouble me, dear,” she said in a 
cooing voice. 

“ Not let it trouble me!” he cried, rising and walking 
the floor. 

“ I don’t know whether Vere ever told her the truth,” 
she said. “ When were you married?” 

“ That same night — the. night of the day you were 
married by the mayor. Think of it!” 

“Yes,” said her ladyship, very slowly, “it is a clear 
case of pique — but of course she has learned to love you 
since, so what does it matter?” 

Tremaine did not reply, but his thoughts were in a fly- 
ing train. 

Learned to love him since! What mockery. And 
backward his thoughts flew. He, too, remembered the 
white face, that November night out under the stars. 
She was going to post a letter, she said; a letter to Gor- 
don, Tremaine thought now, and that night he made her 
Mrs. Tremaine. Yes, her face was white then, and has 
been white ever since. No, her cheeks were pink this 
morning; yes, they were pink this morning, and why? 
Because she saw him last night. 

When the answer came to him, he turned upon Lady 
Landimere with a look that startled her. 

“Do you know why I mentioned Lord Landimere when 
I came in?” 

“ 1 supposed she told you all about it.” 

“ No. I was about to ask you if you knew Lord Landi- 
piere is in Paris?” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


67 


" Lord Landimere in Paris! Nonsense.” 

"Ah! then you don’t know. He is at our hotel. I 
saw him last night.” 

" Oh! you must be mistaken. I received a telegram 
from him to meet him this morning in London. "He 
wants me to meet him for the purpose of a final under- 
standing, whatever that means,” and her ladyship laughed 
gayly. “I telegraphed back that I had not time to in- 
dulge him in any such whim!” 

" That’s strange. I saw your husband last night and 
again this morning. Mrs. Tremaine saw him last night.” 
And Tremaine described his seeing Lord Landimere with 
Crosby this morning, and what the latter had said about 
it. 

"Your wife saw him! — that is strange. He at the 
same hotel and I know nothing about it! — that’s stranger. 
But I can’t believe it,” and her ladyship looked mystified. 

" Be careful. Lady Landimere; what does he mean 
by final understanding?” 

" Heaven only knows; a whim as I told him. I don’t 
mind him or his threats; they are constant.” 

A knock interrupted the countess. It was a telegram 
for her. 

"Now,” she said, brightening, “this is an answer to 
mine; this will prove to you that Lord Landimere is not 
in Paris.” 

She read it, then handed it to Tremaine, saying: 
" There, you see, it is from London.” 

It was from London. It read: "If yon do not come 
to London at once, I shall have to compel you to do so.” 

It was signed with Laudimere’s initials. 

"Now do you believe he is in Paris?” smiled her lady- 
ship. 

" Well, I don’t care for your telegrams. I saw your 
husband in Paris not two hours ago,” said Tremaine, dog- 
gedly. " It was he or his ghost.” 

The countess looked thoughtful. 

"What puzzled me was how Edna knew Gordon was 
Landimere. I asked her this morning, and she evaded 
me. She said she did not exactly know how she knew it, 
she believed she had heard. Now it is very plain how 
she knew it.” 

"Ah,” said the countess,, with a little start, "per- 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


68 

haps there is an appointment between Lord Landimere 
and Mrs. Tremaine; but I cannot believe he is here; if 
he is, he is up to something. He must have told some 
one in London to answer the telegram. That is the only 
way I can account for it,” and the thoughtful expression 
deepened on the beautiful face. 

‘‘There has been no appointment, I am sure of that,” 
said Tremaine, shortly. “ Mrs. Tremaine told me to-day 
that she is anxious to leave Paris. She hates the place.” 

“ She told you that, and you still suspect nothing?” 
said the countess, excited for the first time. “Ah, my 
virtuous Lord Landimere, I may be able to turn the 
tables on you yet! I believe Mrs, Tremaine must have 
seen Lord Landimere. She thinks there is danger for her 
in being near him. She wants to leave Paris because she 
loves him still.” 

Her ladyship buried her face in the cushion with a 
little sob. 

Tremaine stood silently looking at her for some mo- 
ments. He thought she spoke the truth. Edna's acting 
this morning was very clear to him now. To put his 
thoughts into words, she had fooled him most beautifully; 
fooled him with all his wits, and all his money. His 
money, with which he thought he could turn the world. 
And now it came to him how she had scorned him and 
his methods, and the things his money could do. It was 
a terrible blow, a revelation that staggered him for a mo- 
ment, and in that moment he hated his wife. 

He walked over and knelt beside the beautiful creature 
on the divan. This woman feasted his vanity. She made 
him believe he was the great man he thought himself. 
She, he thought, worshiped him, and his every hope was 
centered on her now. 

“ Do you care if they love each other ?” he said, 
stroking her hair. 

She sobbed again and did not look up as she said: 

“ I only thought of you. What do I care whether he 
loves her still, I was only thinking of you — but you both 
love her, and — and nobody cares for me. ” 

“How can you doubt me? Haven’t I sworn that I 
love you ? You, and no other woman in all the world ? 
Look up, love, and say you trust me.” 

She looked up, and she asked him again if he was sure, 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. ' 


69 


very sure he loved her only. And when he reiterated his 
amorous vows, and her mind was settled on that point, 
she again expressed her doubts of Lord Landimere being 
in Paris, and when he became impatient, she said: 

“ Forgive me, dearest; but you see it is all so strange; 
I want you to bring me proof that he is. He is well 
known at your hotel — in fact at every place of note in 
Paris. He can’t come here incognito. Will you find out 
from the clerk, or by looking over the register ?” 

“ I will, and I can get the full particulars for you from 
my friend Crosby,” interrupted Tremaine. 

“ Do find out what you can, and come this evening 
and let me know, by then I will have had time to think. 
Oh, if I could find out something against him! If I could 
enforce the terms of the separation, that I know he is 
longing for, then I would be even with his lordship, and 
Miss Gordon, and sweet cousin Amy. Cousin Amy was 
the wife Miss Gordon intended for her brother. She was 
only fourteen when he married me, but she has grown to 
be one of those sweet, fair creatures born to love, to com- 
fort, and command, as their manly admirers put it. I 
hear my lord goes to fair Amy for comfort quite often,” 
and her ladyship laughed. 

Tremaine left her about an hour later with the promise 
to return in the evening with any information he had 
gained. 

It was nearly evening when Tremaine returned to the 
hotel. He inquired in the office of the clerk whom he 
was friendly with, whether Lord Landimere was staying 
at the hotel ? The clerk did not believe the earl was there, 
looked over the register, and found out he was right ; 
Lord Landimere was not staying there. Tremaine was 
mystified. Crosby said Gordon was staying there. 

“ He was here a few weeks ago; I know his lordship 
well — a capital fellow,” added the clerk. 

“I saw him go in and out here and I heard he was 
staying here,” said Tremaine. 

“You have been misinformed,” answered the clerk. 

“ Well, this is strange! I’ll find Crosby, he may clear 
the matter.” 

He searched for Crosby, and found that gentleman 
had left the hotel not fifteen minutes before for ,9- week's 
absence. 


70 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


For a couple of hours Tremaine haunted the entrance 
and the dining-rooms, watched the guests come and go 
in the hope of seeing Landimere; but even the ghost of 
Landimere was not to be seen. He inquired of porters and 
waiters if they knew or had seen Lord Landimere. Many 
knew him well, but none had seen him for the past few 
weeks. 

Tremaine was bewildered. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE HEW SITUATION. 

“ I have the strangest information for you/’ Tremaine 
said when he returned to Lady Landimere. 

“ Then Landimere is in town? Ah, he is up to some- 
thing!” and her ladyship turned pale. 

“ No, I cannot prove to you he is in town; it is the 
strangest affair,” and Tremaine told her of his inquiries. 
‘‘ But, great heavens, I saw the man; even if I doubted 
my senses, Edna saw him.” 

Lady Landimere bit her lips. 

“ There is something in it. He is up to something and 
I believe your wife knows it.” 

“ If I thought she were playing me false,” and Tre- 
maine finished the sentence by clinching his fist. 

“ They are both playing us false; I will prove it to 
you if you will give me an opportunity. I have thought 
it out.” 

“ I will give you all the ground you want to prove it 
on.” 

“ Your wife wants to leave Paris?” 

“ Yes.” 

“Then listen to me,” said her ladyship, quickly. “Be 
very kind to Mrs. Tremaine, indulge her, tell her your 
business will permit you to leave Paris. Say that you 
have fully made up your mind to have a pleasant vaca- 
tion. You like country life — sport?” she asked sud- 
denly. 

“Yes.” 

“ Then I know the loveliest little shooting-box in Eng- 
land. It is to let, and you can have it for three months 
or a year. It is two hours from London, and just two 
miles from Landimere Hall. I’ll telegraph my lord that 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR, 


71 


I will meet him in London without delay. HI play the 

role of penitent, or Leave it to me. I will find some 

means to entice him to Landimere Hall, and we will be 
neighbors. Do you see what I am coming to? The fam- 
ilies will meet. Gordon Court is but five miles below. 
Oh, what a gathering will be there!” and her ladyship 
laughed gayly. “Then you will have an opportunity of 
seeing Lord Landimere and Mrs. Tremaine together, and 
so be a better judge of their game.” 

“ I’ll do it,” said Tremaine. 

“He is an easy victim,” said her ladyship to herself 
when Tremaine left her. “I feared he would not be 
so willing a tool. My time is coming. A Gordon may 
disgrace himself yet!” 

Edna’s satisfaction was intense when her husband told 
her they would leave Paris. 

“I’ll throw business over and rest for a month or two. 
I think I would like to take a place in the country and 
have a season of sport. What do you say to a nest in 
England ?” 

“ Oh, Marcus, I should be delighted!” and Edna’s face 
showed her joy. 

“ Then we will go just as soon as I can make the 
arrangements. Oh, by the way, X saw Landimere again 
this morning.” 

Tremaine’s eyes were upon her. He saw the delighted 
look leave her face, and her lips trembled. She made no 
comment, and he continued: 

“ Too bad he did not know we 'were here.” 

“Yes,” Edna said, with a little spasm. 

Tremaine turned away with a grim smile. He would 
like to torture her with mo'-e questions, but Lady Landi- 
mere cautioned him not to say a word that might place 
Edna on her guard. 

Tremaine became very attentive to his wife. He took 
her everywhere before they left Paris; she also went out 
with Lady Malverny and others, but she did not meet 
Lady Landimere again. 

Lady Landimere had left for England, and in less than 
a week all the arrangements having been made, Edna 
and her husband went down into the neighborhood of 
Landimere Hall and Gordon Court. 

The house was small, but it was cozy and elegant, and 


7 -> MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 

delightfully situated; and the dearest old housekeeper in 
the world, as Edna thought, welcomed her. 

“ It seems so home-like,” Edna said, looking in the 
smiling matronly face; “and I don’t know what it is that 
makes me feel as if I had new life, Mrs. Bailey. Perhaps 
it is that delightful tea.” 

“Well, the tea is very good. I believe in tea; but, my 
dear, I think it is our air. Oh, you will get rosy here, 
Mrs. Tremaine; you have not been very strong, I should 
judge ?” and Mrs. Bailey adjusted her glasses, and paid 
particular attention to Edna’s white face. 

“ I have always been well,” Edna said. 

“ Yes, but you are not strong. See what this air has 
done for me. I am nearly sixty.” 

Mrs. Bailey, in her black silk dress and white frilled 
cap, with erect figure and good color, looked ten years 
younger, and Edna told her so. 

Next morning, Tremaine went off on a tramp to ex- 
plore the neighborhood, as he said. Edna told Mrs. 
Bailey she would like to drive out and see the new neigh- 
borhood if she would go with her, and the old lady was 
only too glad to be of this service. 

“ Oh, we have a fine neighborhood, and fine neighbors 
too,” said Mrs. Bailey, when they turned out on the road. 
“ We are just between Gordon Court and Landimere 
Hall.” 

“ What ?” cried Edna. 

“My dear madam, you are ill,” cried the housekeeper, 
seeing Edna’s deathly color. 

“No, no; but I do not think I understood you.” 

“ I said we were situated just between Gordon Court 
and Landimere Hall. Here come Miss Kate Gordon and 
Miss Amy Dean, now. Look at them; are they not 
beautiful ? They are the finest horsewomen this side of 
the country.” 

On they came, dashing at high speed. One in dark 
green the other in blue. They were by in a moment, 
and all Edna could realize was that the two mounted 
women were a vision of fair loveliness. 

“And here comes my Lord Landimere in full gallop 
after them,” said Mrs. Bailey. “ They gallop out this 
way every day.” 

In the dust Edna distinguished a horseman. She did 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


73 


not wail to try to see his face; as he approached she al- 
most fell forward. 

“Good gracious, child!” cried Mrs. Bailey, thinking 
Edna had fainted. 

The coachman drew his rein, and Edna, with Mrs. 
Bailey’s assistance, roused herself. 

“ Let us go home, I feel faint,” she said. 

She was well enough to go on, but she feared meeting 
that party again. She soothed Mrs. Bailey’s fears by tell- 
ing her that she would be all right when she got a cup 
of her tea. 

And when they were at home and Edna was sipping 
the tea, she said to Mrs. Bailey: 

“ Does Lord Lgndiniere live at the Hall?” 

“JMot long at a time. I fear he made an unhappy 
marriage. His family wanted him to marry Amy Dean, 
the youngest and loveliest of the ladies we met, but the 
young lord — before he was lord — was very susceptible. 

He fell in love very easy; could not resist a pretty face 

What is the matter? You are very nervous. I must give 
you something for that,” said Mrs. Bailey, as Edna 
started when she narrated this weakness of Lord Landi- 
mere. “ But he sees his folly now. He of ten visits Gor- 
don Court, where Miss Amy lives, and they say it would 
break your heart to see the way he looks at her.” 

Edna shivered so that Mrs. Bailey had to hold her cup. 

“ To think,” Edna said to herself, “that I have come 
to this house to hear this; come down here to meet him 
when I left Paris to avoid him. Is it fate?” 

“You are not well, Mrs. Tremaine,” began Mrs. Bai- 
ley. 

But Edna interrupted her by starting up and saying: 

“ What noise is that? There is some commotion out- 
side!” 

Mrs. Bailey heard the noise now, and ran to the win- 
dow, and in a moment she threw up her hands, crying: 

“Oh, Mrs. Tremaine, Miss Dean has been hurt! They 
are bringing her in. She is covered with blood. There, 
dear, I’ll go down. .You are not able.” 

Mrs. Bailey spoke the truth. Edna was unable to 
speak or move. She was overwhelmed by the new situa- 
tion. 


74 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


CHAPTER XV. 

AMY. 

“ ‘ I have hitl my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong, 

Dost thou love me, cousin Y weeping, ‘ I have loved thee 
iong.’ ” 

Edna listened to the commotion below, to the hurry- 
ing to and fro of footsteps, like one in a dream. She 
could not realize that the Gordon family was within her 
home in less than twenty-four hours after she had left 
Paris, for the purpose of avoiding Vere Gordon. This 
was the fact with which she tried to grapple. 

The clattering of horses’ hoofs roused her. She started 
to the window. One of the grooms was departing at full 
speed. 

He is going for medical aid, Edna thought; the young 
girl must be injured badly, perhaps seriously. Edna felt 
it was her place to go down-stairs at once, but how could 
she meet him? 

While she was struggling to set her own feelings aside, 
and to think of what the occasion demanded of her, Mrs. 
Bailey came up, looking very grave. 

“ I was troubled about you, my dear child; these shocks 
are not good for you ” 

“ How is the young lady?” interrupted Edna. 

“ She is still unconscious. She slipped from her horse 
and was dragged over the stones. Her head is cut badly, 
and she has lost a good deal of blood, but let us hope it 
won’t be serious. I wish you would have your maid with 
you, Mrs. Tremaine; I don’t feel right to leave you alone, 
and I want to go down again.” 

“ Who is down-stairs?” said Edna, eagerly. 

“ Only Miss Gordon and the servants, with Miss Amy, 
poor, dear child ” 

“ Where is Lord Landimere? I thought you said when 
we met them in the wood he was with them.” 

“ Yes, he was, but unfortunately he’s gone— left for 
London not twenty minutes ago. They cantered to the 
station, while he went to the Hall and changed his clothes. 
They saw him off, and were coming home when the acci- 
dent happened. Miss Gordon said she was so sorry he 
was gone, but she hoped the accident would not prove 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


75 


serious enough to call him back; I’m sure she feels very 
much alarmed about Miss Amy.” 

Edna's heart throbbed with relief when Mrs. Bailey 
told her Lord Landimere was gone. 

“HI go down at once,” she said. 

“ Oh, no; please take my advice, Mrs. Tremaine. You 
are not strong; wait until after the doctor has seen her,” 
pleaded Mrs. Bailey, in alarm. 

“ Oh, I am well now — quite strong, very strong. I must 
go down. I am sure Miss Gordon will feel better when 
1 make her welcome.” 

Mrs. Bailey looked admiringly at her young mistress. 

“ She has a good heart,” the old lady commented, in- 
wardly; then aloud: “ Well, my dear, if you are sure you 
can stand it I know Miss Gordon will feel better for see- 
ing you.” 

They went down together, and Mrs. JBailey introduced 
Edna to Miss Gordon, of Gordon Court. 

“ Mrs. Tremaine, I caunot tell you how deeply I regret 
this intrusion, but Miss Dean became unconscious, and I 
did not think it safe to carry her further,” said Kate Gor- 
don, as she held out her hand to Mrs. Tremaine. 

Edna's eyes unconsciously ran over the tall, queenly 
figure before her. She noted the perfect contour, the 
handsomely turned white throat thrown into bold relief 
by the rolling collar of the habit, and the backward car- 
riage of the head, the chin that showed strength of char- 
acter, the downward curves at the corners of the hand- 
some mouth, the frank, gray-blue eyes, and the wealth 
of pale golden hair, massed low at the back of her head, 
under her riding hat. 

Every feature was scanned for a resemblance to Vere 
Gordon, yet Edna found none, unless it was an expression 
in Kate Gordon’s eyes. That expression, with the curve 
of her lips, in spite of her present anxiety, proclaimed 
her. strongest trait to be a quick perception of the hu- 
morous. 

Lord Landimere declared that his sister Kate had all 
the wit and humor of the Gordon family, which declara- 
tion greatly disgusted my Lady Landimere, who declared 
in turn that she never could see anything funmj in Kate 
Gordon. 


76 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


Of course she couldn’t, and her ladyship’s color-blind- 
ness can readily be explained. 

Kate Gordon saw the humorous side with the first 
glance, and she was bewitchingly droll over it; but she 
was true to life. Shams found no place in her tolera- 
tion. Being a woman of deep penetration, she under- 
stood women thoroughly, She said she had seen beautiful 
dolls made of sawdust — they could talk, too; and there 
were any number of sticks dressed like women and act- 
ing like women; but no stick could come to her in fine 
raiment and finer sentiment. The point of her humor 
ripped the raiment and took the sentiment, and — lo! the 
sawdust. 

And who wants the sawdust exposed? Was it any 
wonder Lord Landimere’s fascinating consort could see 
nothing funny in Kate Gordon? 

In spite of the state of alarm Miss Gordon was in, her 
frankness, and tliat genial glow that was an addition to, 
rather than a detraction from, her high-bred manner, 
made an impression on Edna. She felt her whole being 
go out to Vere Gordon’s sister as she touched her hand. 
She trembled violently, swayed by the strength of an 
emotion that mystified her, as she said: 

“ Miss Gordon, I should feel very much hurt if I knew 
you passed our door in your distress, and I hope you 
will do just the same as if you were in your own 
home. Let us trust the injuries will be very slight: 
but, if they prove otherwise, will you remember that I 
am alone here with my husband — that I am a stranger 
with all the long hours on my hands, and I will con- 
sider it a great pleasure if you will allow me to help you 
nurse Miss Dean.” 

A tear gleamed in the gray-blue eyes, and Kate 
Gordon looked at the slight girlish figure. It was a few 
moments before she spoke. In those few moments she 
thought: 

“ She looks so young to be a wife, and she has some 
trouble.” Then, with a touch that was Kate Gordon’s 
own, she held Edna’s hand, as she said, humbly: 

“ You are very kind to us, Mrs. Tremaine, and Amy 
herself will thank you for it some day. Ah, her eyelids 
fluttered. She is coming to!” 

Edna turned to the beautiful girl lying on the sofa. 


MAlMlEU BY THE MAYOR* 77 

She was shorter and slighter than Miss Gordon; the 
colorless face was more perfect in outline; the mass of 
Sowing hair, partly dyed with blood, had a deeper tinge 
of gold than Kate’s, and the eyes that stared at Edna for 
an instant were of the due of the violet. 

Edna did not move. The fluttering eyelids drooped; 
a mumbling sound came from the girl’s lips, and she was 
again unconscious. Mrs. Bailey, who had partly suc- 
ceeded in stanching the flow of blood, was seated beside 
her. Kate sank on her knees at the sofa when she 
thought the girl was recovering her senses. 

“Amy,” she said, catching her hand — “Amy! won’t 
you speak to me? My, how hot her hand is!” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Bailey, with a shake of her head that 
was not encouraging, “ I think there will be some fever. 
I wish the doctor were- here.” 

Edna could not take her eyes from the girl’s face. And 
this is Amy, she thought; Amy, who should have been 
Vere Gordon’s wife; Amy, to whom he came for comfort 
now. Had he learned to love her too late? Did she love 
him all these years? Loved him before he and Edna had 
met! The thought was torture. There was some com- 
fort in knowing there was no love between Gordon and 
his wife; but to know that another loved him, and to 
think that maybe he loved that other, was indeed new 
anguish. Yet, with all the torture of that thought, Ed- 
na’s heart went out in pity to Amy. And why not? 
Could any living mortal know better than Edna what 
Amy Dean suffered? If Edna had a doubt of that suffer- 
ing, it vanished later. 

Again and again Amy muttered something unintelligi- 
ble, before the doctor came, and a few times she opened 
her eyes suddenly, but there was not a gleam of recogni- 
tion in them. Her head was growing better, and the 
color was deepening in her cheeks and lips. 

The doctor came, and said she had a couple of ugly 
scalp-wounds, and besides, she had had a nervous shock. 
While he dressed the wounds, she became very restless, 
and began to talk incoherently. When the doctor ad- 
ministered something to allay the fever, he turned to Edna 
and said: 

“ Mrs. Tremaine, I am sorry, but I do not think it 


w 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


would be well to remove Miss Dean in her present condi- 
tion.” 

“ Doctor, I hope you will not give it another thought. 

I have already said as much to Miss Gordon. I am only 
too pleased to.be of some service.” 

“ How was Miss Amy unseated? Was the horse fright- 
ened ?” asked the doctor, when he had done all he could 
for Amy. 

“I can’t account for it,” answered Kate, whom he had 
addressed. “ We came up the road from the station all 
right, and we thought we would shorten our way by cut- 
ting through the lane this side of the Hall. We were 
not more than a few yards into the lane when I saw Lady 
Landimere; I don’t know whether Amy saw her, but 
something came over Amy, for she turned to me, and her 
face was as white as a corpse, and she was about to speak, 
when she slipped from her seat. I believe she suddenly 
lost her strength. Fortunately, one of the men from 
the Hall came running to our assistance, or I don’t know 
what I should have done.” 

“Did she speak after she fell?” asked the doctor. 

“ Yes; she said, ‘ Don’t take me there;’ she meant to 
the Hall. It was all she said.” 

When Kate said the accident took place in the lane 
near the Hall, Edna wondered why Amy was not taken 
there, now she understood why. Amy did not want to 
go there, and Edna believed Amy’s seeing Lady Landi- 
mere had something to do with the accident. And late 
that night she was confirmed in her belief. Kate Gordon 
retired, weary with watching and attending Amy, and 
Edna, who had rested during the evening, remained with 
Mrs. Bailey at Amy’s bedside. 

Amy talked constantly as her poor burning eyes rolled 
from one to the other. Her words were plain at times, so 
plain that they wrung Kate’s heart. 

“ She talks of Vere all the time,” said Mrs. Bailey, 
when she and Edna were alone with the sick girl. “ Vere 
is Lord Landimere,” explained Mrs. Bailey. “ I am 
afraid the poor child is heart-broken. She should have 
been his wife, and to think of his choosing one so far 
beneath her. His lordship was not very strong-minded, 
or he might be free from this marriage that, I’m sure, is 
hateful to him now.” 


married by the mayor. 


79 

\ '‘How could he be free asked Edna, trying to con- 

\ceal her interest. 

“Well, it came out that there was something wrong 
a^out the license — that the marriage was not legal. His 
people found it out and raised a dreadful time about it; 
and Hetty, as they called Mrs. Gordon then — she is Lady 
Henrietta now — ran away. She was as fickle as she was 
pretty in those days, and I think my lady bears the same 
name to-day. I believe she was glad of a loop-hole to 
escape the matrimonial bond, for the story goes that Vere 
Gordon wanted to make the marriage legal, but Hetty 
vowed he intended to wrong her from the first, and she 
never could live with him or forgive him. So she disap- 
peared, leaving a little daughter a year and a half old to 
Kate Gordon, who rejoiced, thinking she was rid of 
Hetty forever. For two years nothing was heard of her, 
when she suddenly appeared in the neighborhood and 
stole the child she had deserted. She fled with it to 
America, where Vere Gordon had gone. Poor fellow! he 
wouldn’t harm a hair of her head; but he was glad she 
took it upon herself to leave him; and they say he con- 
sidered himself a free man, and was beginning to enjoy 
life again; but she came to him suddenly with her child, 
and demanded he should right the wrong he had done. 
It must have almost killed him to take her back, but he 
did it; I guess it was for the child’s sake, and there was 
another marriage performed in the States — some strange 
sort of a civil marriage, I believe, before a magistrate. 
However, she is my Lady Landimere now, sure enough. 
My! how the poor child raves!” said Mrs. Bailey, turning 
her attention to Amy, after concluding her story. 

That story Edna thought made Vere Gordon’s conduct 
as clear as day. Now she understood the letter he wrote 
her as she had never understood it before. There was 
nothing blameworthy in his conduct toward her. There 
was no sin in it. He loved her and asked her to be his 
wife. And he had the right to do so, as he believed 
himself a free man. In his mad love for her he asked 
her to be his wife before he told her the story of his life. 
That was imprudent, but there was no crime in it. How 
vividly the scene came back to her, when she ran out of 
the house tortured by the taunts of Cora Taunton, and by 
her love for him. Again she hears his footsteps behind 


BO 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


her in the cedar-walk — again she hears his words of pas- 
sionate love, and feels the strength of his arms around 
her, and the touch of his lips on hers, and then came the 
letter — the letter in which he begged her to call him back 
so that he might tell her all with his own lips — the letter 
in which he scourged himself for deceiving her, and 
stamped himself a fraud and all things contemptible. 
Oh, what he must have suffered in his struggle to do 
right, and what solace did she send! Her answer to that 
letter comes back in words of fire. 

“ Vere Gordon, you have played the part of a villain. 
I never want to look on your face again.” 

And now his name rings in her ears — rings through 
the room from the lips of the sick girl — the girl who loved 
him truly. Did he love Amy now? 

“ Vere, Vere! I want you, Vere!” called Amy. 

Edna slipped down on her knees, buried her face in 
the coverlet, and wept. 

“ Hush, my dear,” and Mrs. Bailey smoothed Edna's 
hair. “Don’t cry, she has been going on that way for 
an hour.” 

Was she crying for Amy or for herself? 

“ Vere, Vere, take her away. Don’t let her touch me, 
Vere.” 

Edna looked up. Could Amy mean her? Mrs. 
Bailey saw the look, and said: 

“She means Lady Landimere, I think.” 

“Yes, Lady Landimere!” cried Amy, catching at the 
name. “She hates Vere. She hates me. Oh, those 
eves, how they burn me! Don’t let her look at me, 
Vere!” 

“Poor child, you see how it is with her,” said Mrs. 
Bailey. “ She loves him.” 

“ Who told you that?” cried Amy, looking straight at 
Mrs. Bailey, and appearing conscious for a few moments, 
as people in a raging fever sometimes do. “I never told 
any one — he doesn’t know — he will never know, and I 
have loved him so long, so very long. But I have hid 
my feelings so well, haven’t I?” and she appealed to Edna, 
whose tears fell like rain. 

“ He is so unhappy, can’t you see that? I wouldn’t 
mind, only he is so unhappy— you know that, don’t you? 
Can’t you do something for 'poor Vere?” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


81 


Edna sobbed aloud. 

“Mrs. Tremaine, this is too much for you — you cannot 
stay here.” 

“ What are you crying for?” asked Amy, distinctly, 
then she wandered off into something unintelligible. 

“ Let me cry; you don’t know how much good it does 
me,” sobbed Edna. “I cannot leave her. ” 

And she remained all night at Amy’s bedside. 

.Strange fatality that brought these two women together, 
who thought they loved one man! 


CHAPTER XVI. 

IN TROUBLED WATERS. 

When Lord Landimere left his sister and Amy on the 
road, he went, as they said, to change his riding-dress for 
a traveling suit, to go up to London. 

He was about completing his toilet for his journey, 
when his handsome wife, bedecked in the usual gorgeous 
array, flounced into his dressing-room. 

“Now you are off for London — almost ready to go — 
and I haven’t had a chance to speak to you to-day. Staid 
at the Court, as usual, until the last moment.” 

Her ladyship — as she had told Tremaine she would be 
— was on her best behavior. She spoke with sweet petu- 
lance, and sunk into a chair directly behind his lordship, 
where she could have full view of his face in the glass. 

“ I was here half the morning,” said his lordship, 
curtl} r , as he fastened his necktie. “ If -you had anything 
very particular ” 

“ Oh, it was nothing very particular, only it was 
something I thought you would like to know,” said her 
ladyship, sweetly. “ I wanted to tell you the ‘Nest’ had 
new tenants.” 

• Well?” said Vere, in a tone that meant, “What is 
that to me?” 

“ Mr. and Mrs. Tremaine are our new neighbors.” 

“ Tremaine — Tremaine? Don’t know them,” he said, 
with an unconcern so natural it stunned her ladyship. 

He buttoned the last button of his vest, pulled it down, 
to make it set shapely, and as he gave it the final whisk, 
he called out to his valet, who was packing a portmanteau 
in the next room: 


82 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“ Madden, don’t forget my heavy coat; this fine weather 
may not last.” 

He acted as if he had entirely dismissed the name that 
her ladyship thought would come upon him somewhat in 
the manner of a bomb-shell. 

Lady Landimere bit her lip with disappointment. He 
had studied his part well, she thought. 

“ Yes, you do know the Tremaines; they are old ac- 
quaintances of yours. You met them in the States,” she 
said. 

He was putting on his coat, and he paused a moment. 

“ Tremaines! Met them in America?” he murmured. 

She saw his face in the glass. It had a look of per- 
plexity so natural that it maddened her, and she said, 
rather briskly: 

“ Yes! Don’t you remember a Mr. Marcus Tremaine? 
And Mrs. Tremaine was Miss Edna Forrest.” 

“Forrest! Edna Forrest!” and his lordship looked 
straight before him, and met his astonished face in the 
glass. “ Why, I remember her well, and true enough, 
she did marry Marcus Tremaine — eloped with him;” and 
Lord Landimere turned to his wife, “it was the night 

you came ” His lordship paused abruptly, frowned, 

and compressed his lips at the remembrance, then went 
on reflectively: “Well, well! so the Tremaines are down 
here? I wonder how the marriage turned out? She was 
a very attractive young lady — bright, charming -inclined 
to be intellectual. I wonder how she looks now?” 

He asked the question of himself, and turned again to 
the glass. 

His perfectly natural manner was too much for the 
countess. It exasperated her, it threw her off her guard. 

“ I don’t think she has changed much in a week. How 
did she look when you saw her a week ago in Paris?” 

“I saw Mrs. Tremaine a week ago in Paris? My dear 
madam, may I say you are dreaming? I haven’t seen 
Paris for more than a month.” 

“You were in Paris last week, for Mr. and Mrs. Tre- 
maine saw you at their hotel ” She paused; she was 

watching his face in the glass. He looked very much 
amused. “I met Mr. Tremaine at the opera, was intro- 
duced to him, and he said he saw Lord Landimere twice 
within twenty-four hours at his hotel. I am sure I do 


MARRIED BY THE MA YOR. 


83 


not know what your object was to be in Paris unknown 
to me. Let me tell you I was not going to say anything 
about it, only you denied seeing the Tremaines.” 

“ This is very funny,” smiled his lordship. “ Did Tre- 
maine say he spoke to me?” 

“No, you were gone before he could speak to you.” 

w Did Mrs. Tremaine speak to me?” 

“No,” said her ladyship, doggedly. 

“ I was also gone before she could speak to me. Ghosts 
always vanish into thin air, you know. My dear madam, 
if you think I was in Paris you will be simply believing 
in a snare.” 

Her ladyship did not want to bring his lordship to a 
reckoning now, but she could not bridle her tongue. 

“Where were you Wednesday a week ago?” she asked. 

“ In London, my dear ” (sarcastically), “ at the house of 
Lord Moffat and his wife. I spent the week there; wrote 
and telegraphed you from there, and if you want a certif- 
icate of character of me for that week, I think Lord and 
Lady Moffat will oblige you. If you meet the Tremaines, 
remember me to them, and say to Mrs. Tremaine that I 
will surely call the first moment I have to spare when I 
come back. Good-bye.” 

There was no affectionate leave-taking. Affection be- 
tween these two was buried forever. Her ladyship made 
a pretense of it at times, to suit her purpose, but it failed 
to deceive her husband. He could live but few days at a 
time under the same roof with her. He was not a hypo- 
crite. When he had tried to do right by her, she did not 
appreciate it. She spurned him, she scorned him and his 
love, and he never troubled her with it now. He tried 
to get along peaceably with her, and he tried for nothing 
more. 

When he said good-bye he walked out, and a few min- 
utes later her ladyship heard the rattle of the carriage- 
wheels that told her his lordship was gone. 

Then she fumed and took on the ways of a mad-woman. 
She never thought Vere Gordon, Earl of Landimere, a 
clever fellow; she thought she had turned him round and 
round at will. She had no respect for the man that 
blushed easily, and Vere colored like a girl when he made 
the least attempt at subterfuge. She did not think he 


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MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


could look in her face and deceive her, but the last fifteen 
minutes scattered her estimate of him to the winds. 

Vere Gordon, Earl of Landimere, was not a milk-sop, 
for that was exactly what this deceitful, adventurous 
young woman surmised her lord to be. No, Yere was 
clever. After the last fifteen minutes she would give 
him the palm for evermore for his shrewdness and clever- 
ness. 

“He is playing a deep game, but I will be a match for 
him yet/’ she" said. “ How naturally he said he would 
call on Mrs. Tremaine when he came back. Well, let 
him; that is just what I want.” 

She dressed herself and went out for a walk. She 
came suddenly, as Kate Gordon said, on Kate and Amy 
coming from the station. It was the suddenness of her 
appearance, and the way she looked at Amy Dean, that 
caused the accident. 

Lady Landimere walked on, knowing nothing of the 
injury that befell Amy. She crossed by-road and high- 
road, over meadow and hedges, and in a lonely dell quite 
out of sight of road and hall, she met Marcus Tremaine. 

This was to be their meeting-place until the way was 
opened for him to come to the Hall. 

The countess told him without delay that her husband 
was gone for a month or more, and that he could come to 
the Hall when he pleased. Then she told him very 
minutely of what passed between his lordship and herself 
just before his departure. She imitated even Vere’s 
gesticulations. 

“You never saw anything so natural in all your life,” 
she said. “ I can’t help feeling perplexed.” 

“ Let him alone; I am sorry you said anything; the 
least word may put him on his guard. We must give him 
rope enough to hang himself. He is very, very deep. 
Too bad he went away; it delays us just a month,” said 
Tremaine, thoughtfully. 

“ It will give the families time to become acquainted,” 
laughed her ladyship, but her laugh did not chase away 
her troubled look. 

Her lord troubled her for the first time in her life. 

The wav was clear, and Tremaine called at the Hall 
that evening with startling news. 

The families were already acquainted. The ice was 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


85 

most beautifully broken, as Marcus Tremaine expressed 
it. Kate Gordon and Amy Dean were domiciled for the 
present at the Kest, and Tremaine explained the ac- 
cident. 

“ Well, what an auspicious event for us! I suppose the 
proper thing would be for me to call to-morrow,” laughed 
the countess. 

“ It is not a bad idea; if you intend to call at all, now 
is the time. I believe fortune has favored us.” 

“ Oh, yes, I must call,” said she, gayly; “ I am in the 
family, you know. Even the Empress Kate cannot get 
over that fact, much as she would like to. We must be 
on visiting terms, you know, or we can never throw them 
together. Oh, yes, we must be very friendly, and here is 
my golden opportunity.” 

Edna having remained up all night, did not rise until 
luncheon hour next day. Then she remained in her 
room, thinking over the position in which she was 
placed. She felt that she was getting deep into troubled 
waters. Here she must remain until this young girl was 
well enough to leave the shelter of her roof. In that 
time could she avoid meeting Lord Landimere? She felt 
it would not be as safe to meet him now that she had 
heard Mrs. Bailey’s story. She knew she was growing 
weaker. The good resolutions she made in Paris were 
slipping from her as she faced this double perfidy of her 
husband. She knew it was a preconcerted plan that 
made her a neighbor of Lady Landimere. She felt her 
husband’s treachery all the more bitterly because her hus- 
band deceived her while he pretended to be humoring her 
by taking her from Paris. What could she expect from 
a man that would betray her in this way ? IIow was she 
to deal with him? 

Before she could attempt to answer this question, a 
maid came in with a card, on which Edna read: 

“ Countess Landimere.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 

LADY LANDIMERE’S CALL. 

The instant Edna understood who her visitor was, a 
righteous indignation came to lier rescue and shaped her 
course of action. 


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MARRIED BY THU MAYOR. 


Her husband had crossed the ocean at this woman’s 
call; he had come down here to be near her, making a 
pretense the while of humoring his wife, and Edna re- 
membered the mocking line in the letter she had found 
from my lady to Marcus Tremaine. “ I shall take great 
pleasure in calling on your wife.” 

Edna smiled half in bitterness, half in scorn, as she 
thought of the “pleasure” Lady. Landi mere would re- 
ceive from this call. 

All the determination in Edna’s character, which was 
not a little when put to the test, came to the front now. 
She must take her stand just here. Her womanhood, her 
self-respect, called out to her to let this creature’s effront- 
ery and Tremaine’s base treachery go no further. He 
was untrue, but by her truth she meant to win him back. 
He would not let her do it. He forced an insult upon 
her that she would not accept. 

She took her stand, she said to herself: “There is no 
power on earth that could make me receive that woman.” 
Then raising her eyes that were intent on the card, to the 
maid who was awaiting her orders, she said, calmly: 

“ Say to the lady who gave you this that Mrs. Tre- 
maine is not at home to the Countess Landimere.” 

The maid pricked up her ears, and paused a moment. 
She was a well-trained servant, and not used to making 
comment, but she couldn’t believe she had heard aright. 

“ I am afraid I haven’t the message just right, madam.” 

“ Say that Mrs. Tremaine is not at home to the 
Countess Landimere. Be sure and repeat these words,” 
said Edna, in the same unruffled voice, and she thought: 
“ Now, then, Marcus Tremaine can come to me for a 
reason for my conduct.” 

The maid left the room quickly. She chuckled as she 
went down-stairs. She had been in service at Gordon 
Court, and had her opinion of Lady Hetty, and Mrs. Tre- 
maine’s words were a sweet morsel. 

“Not at home to me! Why, what does she mean?” 
said her ladyship, bristling with humiliation, surprise and 
anger. 

She had not yet acquired the Vere de Vere control of 
feeling. 

“ I did not ask my mistress what she meant, my lady.” 

“ Well, I wish your mistress to understand that it was 


J1 TARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


87 


only a matter of courtesy for me to ask for her. I had 
no desire to see her. I came to see Miss Dean. Not at 
home to vie! The idea. What airs the beastly Ameri- 
cans take upon themselves when they come among their 
betters.” 

“Miss Gordon is here, my lady; shall I tell her ” 

“Yes, you may say that I have called,” snapped her 
ladyship, and when the girl disappeared she said: “ Very 
well, my dear Mrs. Tremaine, I will get most beautifully 
even with you for this. My day will come, if I have to 
work every minute for it.” 

There was a strength about this phraseology that made 
Lady Landimere more satisfied with herself than more 
elegant mental comments could have done. We sup- 
pose on the principle that one always feels better when 
one is natural. If her ladyship was compelled to guard 
her phrases in talking to others, she could have the grat- 
ification of a good plain talk with herself now and then. 

She was quite ready for Miss Gordon when she heard 
the rustle of that young lady’s skirts, and her ladyship 
was not at all abashed by her queenly air when she en- 
tered the room. 

Indeed, why should the countess be abashed? Who 
was Lord Landimere’s sister, anyway? was the question 
her ladyship asked herself, for the purpose of answer- 
ing herself with much gusto. She was just plain Kate 
Gordon, who took upon herself airs and graces that be- 
longed to none but the aristocracy. We doubt very 
much that her ladyship believed this, or Kate Gordon’s 
conduct could not annoy her as it did; but she acted on 
the strength of this belief, whether it washers or not, and 
she said, very airily, with just a touch of patronage, as 
she rose to meet Miss Gordon: 

“ Oh, my dear Kate, what an awful misfortune has 
befallen you ” 

“No; it befell Amy,” said Kate, beginning the con- 
versation just as her lofty sister-in-law did, whom she 
had not seen for some months. 

“ Yes, yes; I know Amy was hurt, but you have to 
take care of her. I wanted to come the moment I heard 
it, but I heard she had been cut dreadfully, and the very 
thought of blood made me feel faint.” 


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“ I am sorry for you/’ said Kate, the curve at the cor- 
ners of her lip deepening. 

“Yes; I am sure you would be if you knew what 
dreadful sensations I experience.” 

“ Is it dizziness?” asked Kate, in a tone of most inno- 
cent inquiry. 

“Yes; something like that,” said her ladyship, reflect- 
ively. 

“ Perhaps it is your liver,” suggested Kate, and there 
was a little twitch perceptible about her lips as she said: 
“And now I think of it, you are a very bad color at 
times.” 

“Oh, do you think so?” and the countess looked at 
herself in alarm in a mirror opposite. “Perhaps it is 
the shade of red in my bonnet. It is a Tivot bonnet, 
too, and I thought it was charming.” 

“ Oh, the bonnet is lovely, and very becoming — just 
the sort of bonnet a countess should wear,” said Kate, so 
seriously that her ladyship rose instantly and turned her- 
self slowly around before Kate, and asked: 

“ What do you think of my costume?” 

Amy was forgotten. Her ladyship had found a more 
interesting subject— herself and her dress. And now 
she was sure the weapon was in her hand with which she 
could give Kate a stab. The countess called Kate’s ele- 
gant, plain dressing “dowdy.” 

“Worth made it,” said her ladyship, after she had 
given Kate time to survey it. 

“ It is au exquisite creation, and one would know it 
was Worth’s taste the moment one looked at it.” 

The countess was delighted. She hadn’t an idea of 
her own about dress, and she failed to detect Kate’s sar- 
casm. 

“ The only thing I don’t like about it is this dart,” 
said her ladyship, touching her waist. “ It sort of 
broadens me, spoils my figure — don’t you think so?” 

“ Indeed, your ladyship should find no fault with your 
figure — it is a lovely one to try fine garments on.” 

The countess gave a little start. She wasn’t quite sure 
how to take Kate’s words. They had a suggestion about 
them that she ought to occupy the position of “ figure ” 
in some costume establishment. 

Kate fillerl the awkward little pause by most blandly 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


89 


asking her noble sister-in-law if she would not excuse her 
now, as she had to go back to Ani}\ 

“Oh, yes,” said the countess, recovering herself at 
once. “ Poor, dear Amy, how is she to-day?” 

“ Well, she is quiet this morning — much better, I 
hope.” 

“ Oh, dear, I wish I could be of some help to you, but 
I am so utterly useless; you know I never was taught to 
do anything.” 

“Why should you be, since you were destined for 
the nobility. An actual necessity makes us plain folk 
useful.” 

The countess laughed, as if she took it for granted 
Kate was joking. Then she asked if she could see Amy. 

“ The doctor advised me to let her see no one,” an- 
swered Kate, 

“ Oh, then I won’t keep you longer. I’ll call when 
she is better. How strange for you to have dropped in 
here?” said the countess, inquiringly. 

“ The house is tenanted now,” said Kate. 

“Yes, I have the honor to know the occupants,” 
and the countess laughed. 

Kate gave her a haughty stare, as she asked : 

“Have you met Mrs. Tremaine?” 

“ Once in America, once in Paris, when she fainted 
at the sight of me, and to-day she refused to see Lady 
Landimere.” Her ladyshij) felt sure Kate would hear it, 
and she wanted to give Kate something to think over be- 
fore she left. 

Kate looked, without speaking, at her ladyship. 

“ Oh, I see you don’t understand me, my dear Kate. 
Why, only for my timely arrival in America, there might 
have been a big litigation in the Gordon family. Mrs. 
Tremaine, before she was Mrs. Tremaine, came within 
an inch of being your sister-in-law. How would you like 
her? Ask Vere when he comes back — he’ll tell you all 
about it. Good-bye, dear — love to Amy. Awfully glad 
to see you after all this time,” and Lady Landimere was 
gone. 

Kate did not move. Could it be possible her brother's 
wife spoke the truth? She doubted it. A light footstep 
on the stairs roused her, and the next moment she saw 
Mrs. Tremaine in the hall. Kate watched her a few mo- 


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merits before stepping out to greet her. How beautiful 
she looked, and so childlike for a wife! Then Edna hap- 
pening to look in as she passed on her way to Amy, their 
eyes met, and Kate walked out and took her hand, 
saying: 

6 ‘ Good-morning, Mrs. Tremaine. I did not expect to 
see you so soon.” 

Edna said she was quite rested and strong, and hastened 
to inquire for Amy. 

Kate watched her as she spoke, and she was sure the 
beautiful brown eyes told a history of sorrow. Was that 
sorrow disappointed love? Kate thought Edna might 
mention Lady Landimere; she hoped she would, and was 
disappointed accordingly when Edna seemed to entirely 
forget that her ladyship had called. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

IN THE GLOAMING. 

Toward evening Tremaine was coming home. He had 
been spending part of the afternoon with Lady Landi- 
mere. Her ladyship had related the particulars of her 
visit to the West, but made him promise that he would 
not say a word to Edna, as it might put her on her guard, 
and spoil everything. 

“ Patience,” continued her ladyship; “ our turn will 
come by and by.” 

And Tremaine promised to be patient, promised to say 
nothing; his own judgment told him that was the best 
policy, but it was a policy terribly hard to follow under 
the circumstances. 

This husband, who considered his honor outraged, could 
not explain the different shades of his emotions to the 
lovely countess. 

“To think that I have put up with this treatment a 
single hour,” he said to himself, as he stalked home in a 
rage. “ The idea of her daring to show her jealousy of 
Lady Landimere so openly. Pd like to know what excuse 
she would make to me if I asked her for one. To think 
she does not care a snap of her fingers for me, that she 
believes me to be a blind fool, and I have to let her be- 
lieve it.” 

This was the sorest spot in Tremaine’s feeling. It did 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


91 


not cost him a thought that he did not care for his wife, 
or that he was making a fool of her; but to think that 
she did not care for him! It was very hard, under the 
circumstances, for him to contain himself; very hard, 
with his anger choking him, for him to say to Edna, 
when he arrived at home and found her alone in her 
little boudoir: 

“ Well, how is your fair patient this evening ?” 

“ Much better. There has been a wonderful improve- 
ment to-day. Her fever is nearly gone.” 

“ Ah! that's good. Have you had any callers to-day? 
Some of Miss Gordon’s friends came, I presume?” 

For his life he could not help asking the question. He 
was sure Edna would deny Lady Landimere’s call, and he 
asked her, that, on a later day, he might cast up what a 
liar she was. 

Judge his surprise at Edna's answer. 

“1 expected you home shortly, and I came up here 
from Miss Gordon, that I might see you alone for awhile. 
Our only caller to-day was Lady Landimere. She asked 
to see me, and I told the maid to say I was not at home 
to the Countess of Landimere.” 

Tremaine changed color, and he turned his face from 
his wife. Now was the time for his questions — now was 
the time to hurl at her his accusations. AVith a struggle 
he held his breath. He remembered her ladyship’s cau- 
tion, and tried to follow it. 

“ Well, wasn’t that a rather strange proceeding?” he 
said, after a long pause. 

“ Was it?” said Edna, with a sneer that her indigna- 
tion would not let her suppress. 

He paused again, then, in a voice choking with re- 
strained passion, he said: 

“ How should I be able to answer that question?” 

“ Ask your conscience whether there is no reason why 
I should not receive Lady Landimere? Ask your con- 
science whether it was to humor me you left Paris? Mr. 
Tremaine, if you have the least respect left for me you 
will take me from this house the moment the young girl 
below is fit to be removed.” 

His anger was gone. There was no mistaking her 
words. His heart quaked with fear. He was obliged to 
defend himself now. It was all that was left him to do. 


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“ How should I know that you had anything against 
Lady Landimere?" he said, turning upon her savagely. 
“ What is it? You haven't told me." He saw her shrink 
at his words, and now he was determined to bully her. 
“ Come, what is your secret? As for bringing 3 T ou to this 
house, I brought you just as I explained to you, and un- 
der no other pretense." 

“ It is false, and, Marcus Tremaine, you know it," she 
said, recovering from the shock the allusion to her secret 
gave her, “ and I won’t remain in this house!" 

“Well, you will remain here just as long as I wish 
you to," he said, advancing threateningly toward her. 
“Iam not going to humor you by changing my residence 
every week. If you have any accusations to make against 
me, make them in the proper way, and you will find I 
will be ready to meet them." 

He left the room with this threat, but his air of triumph 
left him the moment he crossed the threshold. Edna 
suspected him and Lady Landimere. The tables were 
turned. He made haste with the news to the countess. 
They talked it over together, and she said: 

“ You must stay here until he comes back. We must 
get evidence against them — we must be first. It is our 
only chance now." 

Next day Tremaine told his wife that she might be 
prepared at any time to return to America, adding, with 
a laugh, that he didn’t think Europe agreed with either 
of them, and that he was quite sure an ocean voyage 
would restore their former health. 

Edna accepted what he said in good faith, little dream- 
ing it was a ruse to keep her quiet. She thought he 
might be sorry for his conduct, and wished to place the 
ocean between himself and the countess. As the week 
passed, Edna did all she could to please him, and she 
even planned, if he proved sincere, to tell him all about 
herself and Vere Gordon, for she suspected from his 
words that the countess must have already told him some- 
thing. 

But a week passed, and Amy rapidly recovered; an- 
other week, and she returned to Gordon Court deeply in 
love with Mrs. Tremaine. And still no word from Tre- 
maine about returning to New York. Instead, near the 
end of the third week he told Edna lie had to go up to 


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93 


London for a few days, perhaps a week, to attend to 
some business lie had neglected, and if everything was 
satisfactory, they would leave the Nest on his return. 

Edna’s heart sunk, but there was no help for it but to 
depend on his word. 

The day Tremaine went away Kate Gordon and Amy 
called. Edna told them of Mr. Tremaine’s plan and 
their early return to New York. 

“ Oh,” cried Amy, “ you won’t go so soon? Why, we 
haven’t had a chance to see you since I got well.” 

“ I am very sorry, but we must go,” said Edna. 

“Dear me! I wanted you to meet my cousin Vere. 
He will be at the Hall in about ten days.” 

Edna said nothing, butKatesawher expression change, 
and she said on the instant, so that Amy would not no- 
tice Edna’s embarrassment: 

“ Well, we must have you for the next few days, Mrs. 
Tremaine. Now that Mr. Tremaine is gone, there is 
nothing to ke p you here.” 

Amy’s violet eyes sparkled, and she clapped her hands 
in ecstasy, as she cried: 

“ Oh, yes! Now please don’t refuse, Mrs. Tremaine; 
we shall have a delightful time. Sir Robert Conway is 
coming. See Kate blush! Sir Robert and Kate are to 
be married in the spring.” 

“ I am delighted to hear that,” said Edna. 

Kate was blushing beautifully, but she managed to 
say: 

“ You will come this very day, and stay until Mr. Tre- 
maine comes back.” 

Edna was thoughtful a moment. In those few days 
there was no danger of her meeting Vere. Why shouldn’t 
she go? No objection presented itself, and that evening 
found Edna and Amy at the piano, in the beautiful 
music-room at Gordon Court. 

Amy was playing; Edna was singing, and singing as 
she had not sung for two years. There was some sooth- 
ing influence she could not explain about the place. It 
was just before dinner. Daylight had almost faded 
away, and the blaze of the wood-fire partly lighted the 
room. 

“I comedown here every evening at this hour, and 


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sing for my dinner,” laughed Amy, “but I will have 
you to sing for me while you stay. Isn't it sweet here at 
this hour? The gloaming lends a charm, doesn’t it?” 

“ I don’t know when I have been so happy,” said Edna, 
unconsciously. 

Amy looked up at her. The beautiful face was rosy in 
the firelight. Amy sighed. 

“Why do you sigh?” 

The question was asked before Edna was aware of it, 

Amy took her hand, and pressed it against her cheek 
with an inexpressible touch of love, as she said : 

“ I wonder is there any human being who is perfectly 
happy? If it isn’t one thing it is another. Isn’t that 
the wav they put it?” asked Amy, with a laugh, as Kate 
Gordon came in. 

hi ext evening the drawing-room ivas lighted earlier 
than usual, and Edna supposed, as she passed on to the 
music-room to meet Amy, that the lighting up was on 
account of the arrival of the afternoon. There was an 
arrival, she was sure, by the little commotion she had 
heard, and she believed Kate’s intended had come. 

Happy Kate! thought Edna. Oh, the joy of the meet- 
ing of hearts that truly love! 

Amy was not at the piano, where Edna expected to 
find her. Perhaps she would not “sing for her dinner” 
to-night on account of Sir Robert’s presence. Edna 
seated herself at the piano. The room was darker, the 
fire having burned low. Edna preferred it to a brighter 
light. The soothing influence of the gloaming was again 
upon her. It brought back the memories of other days 
with an irresistible force. Her hands swept softly over 
the keys, and to a low accompaniment she sung: 

“ Remind me not, remind me not. 

Of those beloved, those vanished hours, 

When all my soul was given to thee; 

Hours that may never be forgot, 

Till time unnerves our vital powers 
And thou and I shall cease to be. 

“ I dreamt last night our love returned, 

And sooth to say, that very dream 
Was sweeter in its fantasy 
Than if for other hearts I burned, 

For eyes that ne’er like thine could beam 
In rapture’s wild reality. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


95 


“ Then tell me not, remind me not. 

Of hours which, though forever gone, 

Can still a pleasing dream restore, 

Till thou and I shall be forgot, 

And senseless as the ruddering stone 
Which tells that we shall he no more.” 

The sound of her voice has not died away when a fig- 
ure rises from a sofa in the corner, crosses the room and 
stands beside her. 

For a moment Edna thinks it is Amy, but site has no 
sooner discovered it is the figure of a man than lie lias her 
hand in his. She starts, and he says: 

“ Have I frightened you, Amy? I must have been 
asleep when you came in. Your song awakened me, but 
for a time I was not sure I was not dreaming. You 
stirred up strange memories. I believe I’m dreaming 
yet.” 

Edna wanted to wrench her hand from his, but could 
not. She had no power to speak, for the voice was 
familiar, and the hand that clasped hers was Vere 
Gordon's. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE CONFESSION. 

Edna was very much Amy’s figure, and as her back 
was to the dying firelight, the man who had been aroused 
from his slumber distinguished no difference. 

“Sing it again, Amy,” he said, with passion and en- 
treaty. “ Let me realize that the words were sung by 
you. I seem in a dream — a dream. 1 thought it was a 

voice from the past whose remembrance Oh, Amy, 

cousin, you have stirred up infinite pain, and the only 
touch of infinite pleasure I ever knew. Why should I 
confess this to you? Why should we all come to you 
with our trouble? What has come over me?” 

He dropped her hand as he asked the last question, and 
passed his own hand over his brow, as if to clear away a 
mist. 

Edna sunk on the piano-stool. She could not restrain 
the impulse that came over her. She would give the 
world to know whether Amy had Avon his heart. What 
right had she to this knoAvledge? She did not stop to 
answer that question. He had uttered Avords that made 


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her pulses throb, and sent her blood coursing like fire. 
At this moment her very life seemed to hang on know- 
ing whether he loved her still. 

She ran over the accompaniment of the song or rather 
made an attempt to do so, for the purpose of more effect- 
ually drowning her voice, as she said, scarcely above her 
breath: 

“Then you have not recovered from your disappoint- 
ment — you lovelier still?” 

The words were uttered, and the moment’s pause was 
of an intensity that made Edna count her heart-beats. 

“Recovered from it!” he said, in a suppressed voice. 
“I shall never recover from it until, as your song says, 

< she and I shall cease to be.’ Ah, my dear cousin, I 
have won the name of a brave man, when, in reality, I 
have beeii a coward. I was not strong enough to endure 
life without her love, and I went out under the burning 
sun of India to throw that life away. A man can do in- 
trepid deeds when he wants to get rid of his life; then 
the world applauds, and his countrymen give him a laurel 
wreath; while the man who valued his life and lost it for 
Ins country, lies untalked of in his unknown grave. Re- 
covered from it! Oh, if I could tell you how often I tried 
to make myself believe I had. How I said, over and 
over again. Let the dead past bury its dead. I shall do 
service for my country, for the sake of my country. Why 
should I try to throwaway my life? I shall win fame, 
and live to be proud of it. These resolutions would last 
until I would start up from my slumbers in the night, 
awakened by that voice I thought I heard when I started 
up a few minutes ago. It would come in the most un- 
expected way, and disturb the active duties of noonday, 
or the slumber of midnight, and make me once more its 
slave. It is no use — I might as well give up the fight. I 
cannot forget her — I cannot escape from the bondage of 
this hopeless love. Amy,” and he lays his hand on her 
shoulder, but there are footsteps in the hall and a light 
appears. 

For an instant, Edna’s heart stands still. It is a serv- 
ant to light up, and she will be discovered. There is 
but one way of saving herself, and she avails herself of 
it. She jumps up and rushes from the room without a 
word, 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


97 


Buttons came in with a little torch. If he saw the 
gentleman at the piano, he did not reveal that fact by 
word or look; but the gentleman, who was something 
more than astonished at, as he thought, Amy’s conduct, 
felt confused and guilty, and sat down to the piano, and 
made an attempt to play, to avoid Buttons. 

“ Well,” he said to himself, as Buttons made his exit, 
“I wonder what I said? I don’t half know; I was car- 
ried away by my feelings — I shouldn’t have told her! Per- 
haps I made her feel badly, but that is no reason why 
she should run away without a word. Maybe ” 

We don’t know where his speculations would have car- 
ried him, were he not interrupted by a merry voice say- 
ing: 

“Are you all alone? Oh, why didn’t I know that 
sooner!” 

He looked up, aiid saw Amy’s handsome, laughing face 
in the doorway. 

The tone of her voice, and her appearance there, gave 
him something more than a surprise. He couldn’t ac- 
count for it, but he felt uncomfortable. 

“I have been all alone since you left me,” he said, 
looking at her as if he half expected some sort of a con- 
tradiction. 

“Alone for the last two hours!” she said. 

The uncomfortable feeling grew upon him. 

“ For the last two minutes, you mean. Why did you 
run away?” 

“Runaway! When? I heard some delightful music 
before I came down-stairs, and I thought if you were here 
you were being entertained delightfully. What do you 
mean by saying I ran away?” 

Her cousin’s face blanched, and his voice was hollow, 
as he said: 

“Amy, no nonsense; weren’t you here a few minutes 
ago?” 

“ Why, no!” and Amy laughed merrily. 

“ You were not singing ” 

“ Oh, what a compliment you pay me. It was Mrs. 
Tremaine. Hasn’t she a beautiful voice ?” 

“ Mrs. Tremaine!” 

It was all he said, but his face wore a look of white 
horror that made Amy, not understanding it, laugh, as . 


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MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


she walked over, and laying her hand on his shoulder, 
said: 

“ How came you to make the mistake ?” 

“ It was dark here- ” 

He spoke in the hoilowest of voices, and could not finish 
what he wanted to say. 

“ Well, what did you say'? What did you do? You 
never said anything to me that was not the essence of 
cousinliness. Surely, you made no departure from the well- 
worn groove ?” said Amy, with a laugh that had in it a 
touch of sadness. “ You did not take it into your head 
to make love to me ? You didn’t make any terrible con- 
fession ?” 

“ Yes, I did make a terrible ” 

He paused abruptly, threw Amy’s hand from his 
shoulder, and walked the floor excitedly. For some 
moments he seemed to forget Amy. 

“ I made a terrible mistake,” he said, at last, turning 
to Amy. 

“ It could have been nothing terrible, my dear Gordon, 
if you mistook Mrs. Tremaine for me, as you say,” said 
Amy, who had grown very serious while she looked at 
him. 

He took a few turns on the floor before he answered. 
He tried his utmost for self-control, and partly succeeded 
in gaining it, when he turned to Amy again and held out 
his hand to her. 

“You are quite right, Amy. Nothing so terrible could 
nave happened, but thinking it was you, I was led to 
make remarks. I — I believe it was a sort of confession. 
What a fool a man can make of himself when he has 
a loving, confiding little cousin! I am sure I made a fool 
of myself, but it is all right now; and you won’t refer to 
it — not to any one, and above all not to Mrs. Tremaine. 
I would feel very uncomfortable if I thought you would. 
Give me your hand that you won’t, Amy.” 

“ Of course I won’t refer to it if you do not wish me to,” 
said Amy, sympathizingly, for she thought she began to 
see her cousin was afraid he would be laughed at. 

“ To no one, Amy,” he said, still holding her hand, 
as if it were an affair of life or death. 

“I’ll never mention it without your permission, though 
I think it is a shame to lose the fun.” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


99 


. “Fun!” 

He dropped her hand and turned away in disgust, with 
evidently some indignation added, for there was a flash 
in his eyes as he said: 

<e Yes, you see what a coward I am. The fun would 
be at my expense, and I am bound to avoid it. Now, 
if it were Mrs. What did you say the lady's name is?” 

“Mrs. Tremaine. And wait- until you see her at din- 
ner.” 

The gentleman leaned his elbow on the mantel, and 
looked savagely at the pattern on the carpet, as if he 
were studying it. His expression of determination deep- 
ened. 

“Shall I stay for dinner?” he said, and the manner in 
which he looked made one think he expected the vines 
on the carpet to answer him. 

“ What a question!” Amy cried. “You are not going 
to let Mrs. Tremaine frighten you away? Why, you will 
make me believe something dreadful has happened!” 

“ Oh, it was nothing dreadful — quite an every-day oc- 
currence, I assure you,” and he laughed sarcastically. “ I 
am making a mountain out of a mole-hill. Of course, I 
am not going to let Mrs. Tremaine frighten me away. I 
believe it's my duty tc meet her now. I'd like to see 
what she looks like in broad daylight — rather, under the 
gaslight.” 

“ Gordon, you will find her charming. And I am sure, 
whatever has happened, she will take no advantage.” 

“ Oh, please don't mention that! After what has hap- 
pened, I know the lady would take no mean advantage,” 
he said, with increasing sarcasm. “But come, tell me 
all about her — a new acquaintance, is she not?” 

“Yes,” Amy said, “and just the loveliest friend we 
have ever made,” and she ran on in an ecstatic way, tell- 
ing how she became acquainted with Edna, and dwelling 
on her beauty and manners with infinite delight. 

“Is Mr. Marcus Tremaine here?” said Gordon, when 
Amy paused. 

“ No; he is in London for a few days. When he comes 
back, I fear they are going away.” 

“ Where?” asked her cousin, quickly. 

“ Back to New York,” said Amy; and if Gordon 


100 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


wished to ask any more questions, he was prevented by 
Kate coming in. 

The ladies were dressed for dinner, and he hastily ex- 
cused himself, saying he had slept the hour away. 

He threw himself in a chair when he reached his room, 
and forgot all about his dress. His thoughts were on his 
confession. 

“ I wish my tongue had lost its power before I spoke 
those words to her. Ob, Heaven! what cool heartless- 
ness! What brazen effrontery to sit there and draw that 
secret from me! To think that I have wasted my thoughts 
on such a thing!” He started up in a rage. “ I believe 
I could strangle her on the spot if she were before me. I 
ought to kill her for what she has made me suffer. And 
she knows now — she knows what I have suffered for her. 
What a triumph for her little soul! Shall I leave this 
house, and not meet her again? No; that would be all 
the more glory for her. I will see her again. She shall 
not return to "America triumphant. I will go down and 
meet her as if that terrible confession were never made, 
as if we never met before, unless she choose to reveal 
that fact. She shall yet see that I am not her slave. Her 
husband isn’t here. That is a relief! Oh, this virtuous 
wife!” he cried, in derision, as he threw off his coat. 

How will she look in my face after the work of this 
evening? Bah! what does she care? She has a heart of 
stone. She has never known a feeling of true love, and 
yet her song ” — face and voice lost their rage — “ her song, 
her voice, how sad they were — 

4i Remind me not, remind me not 

Of those beloved, those vanished hours, 

When all my soul was given to thee; 

Hours that may never be forgot, 

Till time unnerves our vital powers. 

And thou and I shall cease to be.” 

He laughed derisively with the last line, and repeated: 
“ When all my soul was giveu to thee.” 

“ Yes, she gave me her soul one day, and married Mar- 
cus Tremaine the next. Her sentiment sounds well with 
a piano accompaniment. Strange that a little art can 
make a heart of stone affect us like a soul. I’ll go down 
and see how her art will stand the test of the gaslight.” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


101 


CHAPTER XX. 

IX THE STORM. 

GoRbox was full of derision as he came down-stairs. 
He had all his contempt and sneers well pigeon-holed in 
his mind. He persuaded himself that he was very cool , 
and collected; yet his heart was heating violently when 
he entered the drawing-room. 

There were but two ladies in the drawing-room, Kate 
and Amy, and a gentleman — Sir Robert Conway, Kate's 
intended. ' A tall, handsome young man, whose dark 
hair and eyes, and altogether bright, dark complexion 
proclaimed his Celtic origin. 

“Ah, Gordon!” cried Sir Robert, “we are doomed to 
disappointment. 'Pon my honor, you look disappointed 
already!” laughed Sir Robert. 

Gordon did look disappointed. He did not see Edna, 
and in spite of his fine calmness, was just a little upset, 
as he thought, but the truth was, his violently beating 
heart seemed to stand still, and a chill crept over him. 

Amy looked at him, and a little wrinkle appeared over 
her nose. She was very much perplexed over her cous- 
in's state. 

“ I anticipate what you are going to say,” said Gordon, 
trying to laugh. “We are not to see the ladies' new 
friend. This perfectly beautiful young Mrs. Tremaine, 
who was to have run the gauntlet of our criticism.” 

“ Exactly," said Sir Robert. “ I think it is cruel to 
raise one's expectations so high, only to set them down in 
the depths of despair.” 

“Now, Robert, you know you are exaggerating,” said 
Kate to her future lord. “ We haven't talked in that 
strain.” 

“ You haven’t. Miss Gordon,” laughed Gordon, trying 
his best to make light of the matter, “ but you should 
have heard Amy.” 

“ Yes, I did talk, and I say, now, you don’t know what 
you have missed,” said Amy, smiling. 

“And why have we missed it? What have we done?” 
said her cousin, trying to appear indifferent. 

“ Unfortunately, Mrs. Tremaine is too ill to appear at 
dinner/' said Kate. 


103 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“ That is the way with all great artists: at the last 
moment comes the announcement to the waiting ad- 
mirers, ‘ Cannot possibly appear on account of sudden 
indisposition/ " and Sir Robert laughed and begged the 
ladies' pardon, but there was grim truth on Gordon's face 
as he muttered: 

“The case in a nutshell. Bob." 

They went in to dinner, and Mrs. Tremaine was not 
mentioned again until Kate said: 

“We thought of taking Mrs. Tremaine to the Rocks 
to-morrow. She will be going away shortly, and we 
would like to show her some of our geographical wonders. 
1 believe the Rocks is the feature of this wonderful 
county. Can we depend upon you for escorts, gentle- 
men? But don’t let us interfere with your plans. You 
know we can go without you," said Kate, with an inde- 
pendent shake of her head. 

“Well, we don’t know whether you can or not," smiled 
Sir Robert. “I am not so sure you can paddle your own 
canoe.” 

“ Oh, we have been practicing," said Amy, “and we 
are experts with an oar. We'll pull a race with you any 
time.” 

“Shall we take that challenge, Gordon?" said Sir 
Robert. 

Gordon was thoughtful while they were talking, though 
he tried to appear not to be so. If Edna would not meet 
him to-night, she would be less likely to do it to-morrow. 
He believed her indisposition was a pretense to avoid 
him. If he were of the party to-morrow she would not 
go. He was determined by fair play or false to see her 
again. 

“ Once more," he said to himself — “ just once more, 
and then ” 

His thought stopped there. Once more — and who could 
tell what then ? 

“ I can’t go to-morrow," he said. “ I find I shall have 
to run up to London early in the morning, and I may not 
get home until evening; but there' is nothing to prevent 
you going, Bob.” 

“No," said Bob, with a sigh; “since you leave me to 
myself here, there is nothing to prevent my going." 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


103 


“Oh, thank you for thinking we are preferable to the 
solitude of your own company,” said Kate. 

Next, morning Amy went into Edna’s room very early. 

“Are you better to-day, dear?” asked Amy, affection- 
ately. 

“No,” said Edna, pitifully. “I was thinking I had 
better go home this morning. I am afraid I maybe quite 
sick.” 

“ There is not the least danger,” cried Amy, somehow 
having an intuition that what she was about to say would 
make Edna well. “ If you are well enough to drive, you 
are well enough to go with us to the Rocks.” 

“No, no!” cried Edna in alarm, but Amy went on 
without noticing the interruption. 

“It is a most delightful spot — an island almost in the 
center of that great lake, a little to the north of the Nest. 
Maybe you have noticed it. ’Pon my word it’s a health- 
restoring spot — Kate told me to tell you so, and, ah, so 
romantic! Sir Robert is going to take us. It is too bad 
my cousin Gordon cannot go, but he has an engagement 
in London. He has already started, and will be gone all 
day.” 

Edna drew a fluttering breath of relief. That breath 
seemed to give her new strength, for she was certainly 
well with the next breath, which said: 

“ I suppose the jaunt would make me feel quite well 
again.” 

“ Just try it!” cried Amy. “ You will go, won’t you?” 

After very little hesitation, Edna said she would, and 
just an hour later the little party started. 

Without a spark of jealousy Kate watched the enchant- 
ing impression Edna made on Sir Robert, as they drove 
over to the lake along the banks of the little winding 
river — an outlet of the lake. 

The distance by this winding route was some six miles, 
but they might have cut half the distance, only they 
wanted to show Edna the surrounding country. 

It Avas early March, but the day Avas as perfect at 
the beginning as if it Avere the month of May. 

“ Hoav beautiful and calm it is,” said Edna, as they 
reached the lake. 

“Ah, but these are treacherous waters,” said Kate. 
“They turn black, like the Rocks yonder, A\hm they 


104 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


are roused, then boil white as they are lashed by the 
storm. We were caught in a storm here once. That 
is, Robert and I were. Thank Heaven, Amy was not 
with us! Do ypu remember it, Robert?” said Kate, as 
they stepped into the boat. 

“ Do I remember it?” said Sir Robert. “As if I could 
ever forget it. But don’t be alarmed, ladies,” he said, 
gayly, as he took the oars. “I’ll never be caught in a 
storm here again. We will take to our boat if 1 see but 
a passing cloud.” 

“It’s a threatening-looking mass,” said Edna, looking 
at the island about a mile and a half away.” 

“It doesn’t look very inviting from this side,” said 
Kate; “but wait until you are there. See, we are not 
far from the Nest,” said Kate, pointing to Edna’s home, 
which could be seen plainly. 

“ Oh, I did not think it was so near,” said Edna. “ In 
the view from the house the water, strange to say, looks 
a long distance off.” 

The island was, indeed, a surprise to Edna. You 
climb the rocks, and the sight is enchanting this morn- 
ing in early spring. Nature scattered her beauty with a 
lavish hand in spots and nooks and views. Green met 
the eye on every side, and there were hill and dell and 
ramble, and cave and cataract and bower. 

“And nobody lives here!” cried Edna, letting her eye 
rove round from her high point of view in search of a 
dwelling. 

“ And nobody lives here,” repeated Amy, with a laugh. 
“ It is all ours, now that we are here.” 

The morning was gone before they knew: it. They 
had their luncheon and rested, and again set out for the 
purpose of exploring. This time they wandered away 
from each other; Edna was with Sir Robert, but some- 
how she unconsciously lost him. 

It was about two o’clock, and Sir Robert was startled 
by the sun going under a cloud. 

“I don’t like that,” he said to himself, and the words 
were scarcely spoken when it grew darker. Sir Robert 
was not a coward; but he cried out in a startled voice: 
“ Kate! Amy!” 

“ What’s the matter?” 

The Yoice that answered him was not Kate’s or Amy’s. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


105 


He heard the dip of oars, and the next moment Gordon 
was climbing up the rocks. 

“ Thank Heaven, you have come,” cried Sir Robert. 
“ We must get away at once. We are going to have a 
storm. Ah! here’s Kate! where is Amy*” 

Kate came up white and frightened, to be very much 
surprised at Gordon’s sudden appearance. 

“ Here is Amy,” said Kate, pointing to Amy, who was 
hurrying after her, “but where is Mrs. Tremaine?” 

“ There she is — away off at the other end of the island. 
I believe she knows we want her; she is coming. Gor- 
don, you take Kate and Amy off at once, and I’ll go for 
Mrs. Tremaine and follow in your boat.” 

“ Allow me to do that,” said Gordon, starting off in 
Edna’s direction as he spoke. “ Go at once,” he called 
back. “Have no fear of me — you know I’m a good 
sailor!” and Sir Robert followed his advice. 

Edna was walking rapidly to join her companions, 
when she saw a man hurrying toward her. She thought 
it was Sir Robert until she was within a few feet of him. 
She did not discover her mistake until she addressed 
him: 

“Are you going back now?” she said. 

“ I don’t know,” answered the man. 

The voice was husky, but she recognized it, and stag- 
gered back. 

They looked into each other’s eyes. His fairly gleamed. 

“ I don’t know whether I ought to take you back,” he 
said, stepping forward and grasping her by the arm. “ I 
think, after last evening, I ought to sink our boat and 
drown the pair of us.” 

She did not speak. Her face was ashen, and his 
grasp on her arm did not prevent her from sinking at his 
feet. 


106 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

“ NEVER CAN THIS THING END, AND THAT BE.” 

“ If you loved me ever so little, 

I could bear the bonds that gall; 

I could dream the bonds were brittle — 

You do not love me at all. 

“ If I could but know, after all, 

I might cease to hunger and ache; 

Though your heart were ever so small, 

If it were not a stone or a snake.” 

“ Don’t grow weak — don’t faint — it won’t save you,” 
he said, in a fierce, hot breath, as he grasped her arm 
tighter. “ If I must stay here until morning, you shall 
hear what I have to say ; then you may faint — then you 
may die. Under the cover of darkness last evening you 
cheated me; you stole my secret from me. You tri- 
umphed in the act, for you found out all you wished to 
know, while you still kept your word. Oh! what a 
loathing subterfuge! None but a soul as small as yours 
could stoop to it. And I have loved a thing so vile!” 

He flung her arm from his grasp in the intensity of his 
disgust. She cowered, and her head lowered until her 
chin rested on her bosom, and his torrent of mad words 
ran on. 

“ You have kept your word. You wrote me you never 
wanted to see the face of a villain again, but when dark- 
ness hid the face of that villain from you no scruples 
stood in the way of your ascertaining whether the villain 
loved you still. I told you I loved you, didn’t I? Look 
at me!” 

He bent over her, raised her chin on his finger-tips, 
and looked in her face. “I want to tell you, now that 
we are face to face in the light of day, how I despise you, 
though I have not conquered my unfortunate passion for 
you, for, just as surely as I say the words, a man always 
despises the thing that makes him despise himself. And 
I despise myself— oh, God ! how I despise myself for hav- 
ing loved her!” 

He threw up his arms to the black, rolling clouds, with 
that last sentence. For the moment he seemed to forget 
the woman at his feet. In the bitterness of his despair 
it was an actual confession to the Divine Being he called 
upon. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


107 


She spoke, and her words Drought him back. How 
strangely her voice sounded. The dreariness and wail of 
the rising elements seemed to mix with the words. He 
would not be sure that sound came from her lips, only he 
was looking down in her face — and the face might be that 
of a dead woman. 

“You are right — you should despise me, and despise 
yourself for ever having given me a thought. You cannot 
leave here and say you forced me to look in your face. T 
want to look in your face so that you will believe I want 
to take back those words I wrote to you. Oh, hasty 
cruel words, that could be penned only by one who had 
little faith! I want to tell you I have learned why you 
left me that night, and why you wrote me that letter. I 
know all — let us have no useless words. It is too late for 
words now. I had little faith indeed. I wronged you in 
thought. I am the thing you called me, unworthy such 
love as yours. Oh! if it were not for the words you have 
spoken, I might hope for — I might dare ask — your pity — • 
your forgiveness!” 

There was no rising of her voice in appeal. Its dreary 
monotone died away, and the angry elements filled his 
ears in its stead. 

He looked at her in doubt. Did she feel the words she 
uttered? Was her confession only to turn his anger from 
her? She was all he thought her, she said, but still she 
wanted his pity, his forgiveness — his love to feed her 
vanity. He would give the world this moment, were it 
his, to j3rove his thoughts were wrong. Only to know 
that her heai’t was not all stone; only to know that this 
woman who crept into his life and wound herself about 
his heart-strings was not all snake; only to know that she 
could give him a heart-throb, and it would blot out the 
misery of the past, and make the future worth the living. 

te Pity!” he said. “ You talk of pity! What pity had 
you forme? But what matter about me? Had you any 
pity for yourself? Never mind about your little faith in 
me — were you true to yourself? Listen. These are the 
words you said to me, not forty-eight hours before your 
marriage: ‘ The day I consent to be Marcus Tremaine’s 
wife will be the day I have learned to love him.’ Did 
you keep your vow?” 


108 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


been touched with fire. If she obeyed her impulse, she 
would have thrown her arms about his knees and clasped 
them, and she would have shouted in a voice louder than 
the gale: 

“No, no, no I” 

But a strength that no human has from himself came 
to her. She knew if that little word passed her lips she 
was lost. 

“Answer — yes or no/’ he said, with intense eagerness. 
“Were you true to yourself when you manned Marcus 
Tremaine?” 

“You have no right to ask me that question.” 

“ No right,” he said, and he fell on his knees beside 
her and caught her hand. “Think of the promise you 
once gave me — of my suffering — my degradation — and say 
I have no right. Two days after you promised to be my 
wife you married another. That was base treachery, 
cold-blooded revenge — — ” 

“Yes, it was all that,” she said, quickly. 

His heart bounded, as he cried: 

“Yes, it was for revenge— not because you learned to 
love that brute. You did not cease to love me?” 

He knew after that that was a mad question, but peo- 
ple do mad things when life’s happiness is at stake. 

Edna wished the angry water breaking on the rocks 
would rise and swallow her. That would indeed be 
preferable to the fate that awaited her. She thought of 
her husband, then asked herself why she should think of 
him. Had he not betrayed her? Why should she be 
true to him? Why should the man seeking her love be 
true to the guilty creature he was bound to by the law? 
The love of her life had come back to her — why should 
she cast it from her, knowing what she did of her hus- 
band and this man’s wife? The heavy banking clouds 
seemed to lower upon her. Her head swam. She raised 
her arms to him. 

“ Alas! would she trust 

To that maxim of virtue made ashes and dust, 

That the fault of the husband can cancel the wife’s?” 

‘‘ Edna!” and he opened his arms for her. 

His cry brought her to her senses. She was a wife, and 
she would not trust to the “ maxim made ashes and 
dust.” She knew that if she gave way one jot to her feel- 


married by the mayor. 


109 


ings she could not save herself. There was nothing for 
her to do but let this man she loved think the worst of 
her. She sprung up to put this thought into action 
while she had the strength. 

“ You forget I am Marcus Tremaine’s wife/’ she said, 
the sudden resolution giving her color and force. 

This was indeed unexpected. Gordon rose slowly, and 
looked at her as if he could scarcely credit his senses. 

“ What you speak of happened two years ago. A wom- 
an can forget a great deal in that time. I have often 
regretted having misjudged you — that was all. Will you 
be kind enough to leave me now? I don’t thiuk this in- 
terview is pleasant, to say the least, for either of us.” 

He had sounded her heart, and that was his answer. 

lie looked at her for some moments, as if trying to 
make her out. He saw now that she had grown taller 
and more beautiful in two years. But what manner of 
girl was she? Her heart was a stone or a snake. 

There was neither fierceness nor anger, nor wild en- 
treaty, in his face or actions now. 

“It is not necessary to prolong the interview, Mrs. 
Tremaine, since I have learned all I wished to know. I 
promised your friends to see you safely home. We had 
better start at once.” 

There was no murder in his words or his heart now. 
He started to walk, but seeing she did not follow him, he 
turned and said: 

“You have nothing to fear, Mrs. Tremaine — mine 
were the ravings of a madman when I came to you. You 
may trust yourself to me. I’ll keep my promise to Sir 
Robert.” 

She did not move and he stepped back, took her hand, 
and drew it through his arm, and led her to where the 
boat lay. 

She walked at his side like a woman in a dream. Not 
a ivord was spoken. As he placed her in the boat, large 
raindrops began to fall. He looked around him. Tiny 
white-caps, the forerunners of the angry, boiling whirl- 
pools that would soon be here, appeared upon the water. 
Gordon could scarcely see the opposite shore, but he 
knew the short-cut, and believed lie could make it before 
the storm burst in all its fury. 

Ho set to work with the earnestness and vigor of one 


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who was bound to master all obstacles, and he made his 
voyage, and landed his boat safely just as the rain came 
down in torrents. 

Two men watched the approach of the boat. One a 
gentleman in his dress, the other a laborer. They were 
unknown to each other. They had sought the shelter of 
a shed, and the gentleman had been asking questions 
about the approaching boat, and seemed deeply inter- 
ested. He went out of sight, however, as the boat neared 
the land, and the workingman started off on a run to 
meet it. 

“ Fve been over to the Nest for a carriage to take you 
and the lady to Gordon Court. Here it comes now/’ said 
the man to Gordon, as a carriage came into view and Avas 
rattling toward them at full speed. “ Sir Robert took 
the ladies home at once, as their carriage Avas open and he 
feared they wonjd be drenched. He made me go to the 
Nest, as it was so near, and order the closed carriage for 
you.” 

“Thank you,” said Gorden, as Tremaine’s coachman 
dreAV rein before them. He opened the carriage-door for 
Edna, Avhose clothes Avere already dripping. 

He did not speak to her, and she did not look at him as 
she entered the carriage, saying: 

“ I want to be driven home; I shall send my excuses to 
Miss Gordon for not returning to the Court.” 

“ I beg of you not to leave the Court on my account, for 
I leave it in an hour or tAVO.” 

“ I Avould rather not go back. I fear I Avill take cold 
after this Avetting. Will you be kind enough to explain 
my drenched condition to Miss Gordon, and say to her I 
tli ought it best to go home, as it was so near?” 

She controlled her voice admirably as she said tliis, but 
it fluttered and hesitated as she concluded Avith: 

“If you will drive to the Nest first ” 

“ Thank you, avc Avill part here; but, before Ave part, 
let me toll you that our intervieAV to-day has cured me 
of my folly. The unfortunate passion is dead at last, 
and the only feeling that remains is the loathing of my- 
self for ever having had it.” 

He closed the carriage-door Avith the last word. There 
Avas no farewell. She heard him say to the driver: 

“ To the Nest.” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


Ill 


“Vere, Vere! come back to me!” she cried, but too 
late. 

The horse had started, and she caught one glimpse of 
the tall, manly form stalking off through the torrent, and 
the next moment he was lost to her sight, perhaps for- 
ever. 

When the carriage arrived at the Nest, Mrs. Tremaine 
was found in an insensible condition. 

She had, indeed, passed through the agony of death 
itself, but she had conquered. She had forged her own 
chains. She was Marcus Tremaine’s wife, and the man 
she loved was Lady Landimere’s husband, and never 
could this thing end and the thing they wished be. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

ON THE VERGE OF EXPOSURE. 

He closed the carriage-door, walked away, and did not 
turn to look at it again. He did not seek the shelter of 
the shed, he did not seem to see it, nor to know the rain 
was falling in torrents. The shortest cut to the Court 
was almost two miles. He took it, perhaps, by chance, 
for he did not appear to be conscious he was choosing his 
way. 

What cared he for the clash of the elements, the 
blinding rain? He stalked on, intent on the more terrible 
storm that raged within. 

The gentleman who retreated out of sight when the 
boat touched the shore stepped from under the shed after 
he had seen Lord Landimere pass. He looked after him 
now, and saw him rushing through the rain. 

“ It’s strange,” muttered the gentleman, and his looks, 
as weil as his words, told he was sorely perplexed. “ Not 
an hour ago she told me he had not returned. I’ll follow 
him. I have as much at stake as he has, and I can stand 
the rain if he can.” 

He had no umbrella — nothing to protect him; but he 
started in pursuit, determined to find out Landimere’s 
destination. 

“ I believe he is going to Gordon Court; if he is, his 
going to London was a ruse. Who knows — they may be 
fairly trapped this time.” 

In less than half an hour he had the satisfaction of 


112 


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seeing Lord Landimere enter Gordon Court; but for that 
satisfaction he paid dearly. He was indeed a pitiable- 
looking object. He was drenched through. The water 
was dripping from his hat, hair, face, clothing, and it 
was nearly six miles to Landimere Hall. That was the 
point he wished to reach next — reach at all hazards. But 
would he present himself at Landimere Hall in such a 
condition, not to speak of the state he would be in from 
the additional exposure? 

What does a man think of external appearances when 
going through the inward ecstasies of having achieved a 
tremendous success? Such was this gentleman’s mental 
exhilaration, that his only thought was to reach Landi- 
mere Hall as he turned his face from Gordon Court and 
walked briskly, in spite of his heavy garments, along the 
road. 

“ My Lord Landimere will have to get up early in the 
morning if he wants to get ahead of me. I never played 
a game in my life that I didn’t win, and I am sure I won’t 
be left this time.” 

He forgot that every rule had its set of exceptions. Ho 
became impatient over the distance between him and 
Landimere Hall, but he took courage in the thought that 
he had nothing to fear. Lord Landimere was safely 
housed at the Court, hiding there, in fact — there was no 
danger of his putting in an appearance at the Hall. 

Not only was he encouraged by this thought, but a 
moment later fortune favored him — he heard the rattle 
of wheels that the storm had drowned until they were 
near him. He turned and saw a covered wagon. 

The driver, who might be a farmer, saw the gentle- 
man’s plight, and instantly said: 

“I have room for you here, sir, if you have any dis- 
tance to go.” 

“Ah, thanks, my friend; I have been caught in the 
storm, and I want to reach Landimere Hall as quickly as 
possible. If you are not going in that direction I will 
make it worth your while to take me there.” 

“ I am going to the station near there, sir.” 

The man went very little out of his way in setting the 
gentleman down at Landimere Hall; but when he turned 
his horse’s head to the station and looked at the bank- 
note in his hand, he said: 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


113 


“ I thought lie was an American — them fellows is 
always lavish.” 

“ Say to Lady Landimere that I have been caught in 
the storm, and have come in to claim shelter/’ was the 
message, in a smiling manner, the gentleman sent Lady 
Landimere. 

Her ladyship came down-stairs quickly. She was a 
little startled at the message — she was more startled when 
she saw the gentleman’s condition. 

“ Why, Marcus, something must have happened, to 
bring you back in all this storm!” 

“ Yes, something has happened. Fortune smiled upon 
me in sending me down from London to-day. You know 
I told you I did not think of coming until to-morrow.” 

“Yes, yes; what has happened?” 

“Didn’t you tell me you received a letter from Lord 
Landimere saving he might be here in a few days?” 

“Yes— why?” 

“Well, he knows how to manage his London letters 
admirably. It is the Paris affair over again.” 

“ What do you mean?” said her ladyship, excitedly. 

“Well, after I left here, I arrived at the Nest in the 
nick of time. I was in the stable when the order came 
to send a close carriage at once down to the lake for Mrs. 
Tremaine, as she had gone with a pleasure-party from 
Gordon Court to the Rocks, where they ivere caught in 
the storm. Then, on asking a question, I heard that 
Mrs. Tremaine had been at Gordon Court for two days. 
I became curious at once — something more than curious. 

I had what is called a presentiment, though I don’t be- 
lieve in such things; anyway, something forced me to go 
to the lake. When I arrived there two ladies and a 
gentleman were driving away in an open carriage. They 
did not see me. I knew the ladies — Miss Gordon and 
Miss Dean — and I questioned the man avIio had run up 
to the Nest for the carriage, and he told me the gen- 
tleman was Sir Robert Conway ” 

“Yes, yes — Kate’s intended!” cried Lady Landimere. 

“The man did not know me, and I questioned him. 
He said the party had been over on the island, and 
there were more to come, and if they did not get over 
quickly they would have to stay until the storm was 


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MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


over. But just then a boat came in sight, and in it I 
discovered Mrs. Tremaine and your husband.” 

“ Impossible!” cried her ladyship. 

“Now don’t let us have the Paris contradiction over 
again. I saw Lord Landimere and Mrs. Tremaine. 
They looked strange — badly frightened. I think Lord 
Landimere put Mrs. Tremaine in her carriage and sent 
her to the Nest, and he started off on a walk, and I fol- 
lowed him to Gordon Court, where he is now.” 

Her ladyship sat down for the first time. She looked 
white and quiet for a moment, then her eyes blazed and 
her frame quivered. 

“ If this is true, my turn has come. If your wife has 
been there for two days, he has been there, and that Lon- 
don correspondence is arranged for the purpose of deceiv- 
ing me. I shall call at Gordon Court this evening. See, 
the storm is breaking. It will clear, and I shall go there 
and see whether he denies himself to me, or whether that 
sister of his says he is not there.” 

“ Well, suppose they deny it — what then ?” 

“I want them to deny it, if what you say is true. You 
can prove you saw Lord Landimere — and your wife! Ah, 
I have it!” said the countess, excitedly. “Make your 
wife the witness against him. Go home at once, and be- 
fore she can get any warning, make her admit she was 
with Lord Landimere to-day. If necessary, say you saw 
them, but do it in an uninterested way. Do not alarm 
her, or put her on her guard.” 

“ And if we prove them guilty — for I believe we are 
about to do it — you will remember your promise ? Once 
we are free, you will be my wife ?” 

He caught her hands as he spoke, and she raised her- 
self on her toes and pressed her lips to his. 

“Let that seal my promise,” she said; “and now go, 
and don’t fail in your work.” 

“And shall I call in the morning ?” 

“ No, be at the turn of the lane as I am coming back 
this evening — about half-past nine. Be walking on the 
right. I’ll see you, and have the coachman stop. In a 
few moments we can tell what has taken place.” 

Tremaine went home. He pretended not to notice his 
wife’s wretched appearance, but since the day he married 
her he never saw her look as she did this evening. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


115 


“ I am glad you have come back,” she said. 

“You didn’t expect me to-day?” he tried to say in- 
differently. 

“ I wasn’t sure when you would come,” she answered. 

“ Ah, that is why she came home,” he thought. 

And she continued: 

“I have been most of the time at Gordon Court.” 

“ That was pleasant. Ah, by the way, I heard a pleas- 
ure-party from Gordon Court came near being wrecked 
to-day.” 

“Yes, I was one of the party. The storm caught us, 
and we had a rough voyage back. I got drenched, and 
came home instead of going back to the Court.” 

“ Was it a large party?” he asked, carelessly. 

“ No, there were only five. Miss Gordon and her in- 
tended, Miss Dean, Lord Landiniere and myself.” 

He turned so that he could see her face as he said: 

“ Landimere! I thought he was up in London?” 

“He came to Gordon Court yesterday, if I am not mis- 
taken.” 

She did not look at him as she spoke, but her voice was 
steady. 

“Ah, that’s it!” he said, indifferently, and he was 
about to leave the room, when she said: 

“ Have you completed the arrangements for us to go 
away?” 

“I don’t think you will have to stay here much 
longer,” he said. “ I’ll know in a day or two, perhaps, 
when we can take our departure.” 

With these words he left the room, and a moment after 
he was saying to himself: 

“ I believe now all that eagerness to get away from 
here is put on. Oh, how I wish the hour were here that 
I could let her know she is not deceiving me!” 

After the storm came a beautiful evening and a clear, 
moonlight night. Tremaine had hurried from the lane 
to the main road as Lady Landimere’s carriage came roll- 
ing toward him. 

“Stop a moment,” said the countess to her coachman; 
“ I believe that is Mr. Tremaine, and I wish to speak to 
him. Mr. Tremaine!” she called, as the carriage stopped, 
and that gentleman turned back — in great surprise, of 


US 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


course — and stepped to the carriage door, where there 
was a hurried whisper. 

“ Edna admitted Lord Landimere was with the pleas- 
ure-party to-day. He arrived at Gordon Court yester- 
day. ” 

“She did?” said her ladyship; “and Kate Gordon, 
when I asked carelessly if Vere were at the Court, was 
quite surprised, and said she did not know he had re- 
turned from London. She said their only visitor was Sir 
Robert Conway. I let it go at that, and changed the 
conversation. I did not wish to let her know I suspected 
anything.” 

“Now, then, you believe we have been deceived?” 

“Yes,” she said, in an exultant whisper. “I have 
them in a tight place now. I must have to-night to 
think. There must be a meeting brought about. I must 
have yourself and Mrs. Tremaine confront Kate Gordon, 
and Lord Landimere too, if he can be found. Give me 
to-night to think. You will hear from me in the morn- 
ing. I can trust my maid with a note to you, but you 
had better be on the lookout for her and get it yourself.” 

Lady Landimere passed the greater part of her night in 
plotting for the morrow, but the morning came, and 
found her feverish with excitement, but without any defi- 
nite plan. She feared taking the first step, as she did 
not wish it to be a misstep. 

She was sitting with her brows knit, thinking over 
what word she would send Tremaine, when her maid 
came in and said: 

“My lady, Lord Landimere has arrived.” 

Her ladyship could not repress an exclamation as she 
thought: 

“The difficulty is solved! Now, then, let us see what 
he will have to say for himself. He little dreams he is 
on the verge of exposure.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

HIS GUILT BROUGHT HOME TO HIM. 

“How shall I begin? What shall I say to him?” said 
Lady Landimere to herself. 

She trembled visibly. She felt that the supreme mo- 
ment of her life had come, The desire of her life was 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


117 


about to be gratified. The Gordons had their day — she 
would have hers now. They were sure they would prove 
something disgraceful against her some day and free 
themselves from her, but now she would let the haughty 
Kate see at whose door lay the disgrace. The world had 
taken part with the Gordons, now she would let the world 
see how wise it was. True, the world had its laugh at 
Vere Gordon, Earl of Landimere, and had called him a 
blind man. Well, to say the least, the world would 
never have a laugh at her eyesight. 

On the threshold of such a triumph, was it any won- 
der her ladyship was nervous? She was afraid of herself, 
afraid of her weakness — it was a woman’s weakness. She 
would talk; and one cannot always say the right thing 
when one talks much and fast. 

“Now I must keep cool; I must not let my dreadful 
temper get the b?st of me,” she said to herself over and 
over again, yet when her husband’s, footstep sounded 
without, her heart thumped the louder. 

When he came in he looked tired, but a careful observer 
would have noticed it was anxiety and not exhaust- 
ion from physical exertion. lie threw himself, with an 
air of indifference, into a chair, as he said: 

“ How do you do, Hetty?” 

She, too, tried to speak, and appear indifferent, as she 
said: 

“ I’m very well. Didn’t you get back sooner than you 
expected?” 

She could not control her trembling. 

He noticed her agitation, and for a moment his weary 
air disappeared. 

“ Is there anything wrong?” he asked quickly. “ Has 
anything happened to Bea? John told me she was out 
with her governess.” 

“ I believe she is, and th$re is nothing the matter with 
her that I know of.” 

Lord Landimere’s look of concern vanished, and the 
tired air returned as he leaned back in his chair. If his 
little daughter was well, there was nothing else connected 
with her ladyship or Landimere Hall that could concern 
him. 

This very assumption that nothing else could happen 
in which he was interested, that he hadn’t the slightest 


118 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


fear of having b?en found out, made her ladyship’s agita- 
tion take on a sort of bristling aspect. 

“ I beg pardon/’ he said. “ 1 believe I am tired an- 
swering questions, or I am tired of everything under the 
sun — perhaps that will cover it better,” and his lordship 
put his hand over his-mouth to conceal a yawn. 

“ Lord Landimere, I think you ought to understand 
that there are some things I have a right io know,” she 
said, struggling to keep cool. 

“ Spare me an argument,” he said, with a wave of his 
hand that described his weariness, and in a most aggra- 
vatingly cool tone. “ I grant you that every human 
being in existence is entitled to know some things, as you 
put it.” 

“ Lord Landimere, I don’t pretend to be a logician,” 
and her hands twitched as she clasped them to restrain 
herself. 

“ That is well,”, he said, with an amused smile. 

“ Lord Landimere, I’ll have you to kuow that I have 
rights ” 

“ Hetty, I admit at once that I never knew a woman 
who hadn’t. I wonder what would be the consequence if 
I insisted on my rights ” 

He paused, as if he were thinking the matter over. 

She did not answer at once. Her rage — which she 
tried to swallow — almost choked her. "When she caught 
her breath, she said: 

“ Your rights!” 

“ That’s right — ridicule me the moment I mention 
them.” And the smile came back, as if he took a delight 
in tormenting her. 

“You do as you please!” she cried, unheeding his 
words. 

“ And you don’t,” he said, quietly. 

This was too much for hej ladyship. Tears of vexa- 
tion stood in her eyes, as she said: 

“ I only asked you a civil question.” 

“ I beg pardon — I couldn’t have heard it; but pray be 
careful when you repeat it. A civil question often leads 
to a civil suit, which makes the parties to it anything but 
civil.” 

“ You are quite right, for all your sarcasm,” she cried, 
on the point of boiling over. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


119 


“Indeed, I intended no sarcasm. I was just giving a 
bit of good-natured advice.” 

She was certain now that he had tried to evade her, 
and having failed, was taking a defiant attitude. 

“ Oh, you know what is coming, and you think you 
can silence me with your daring effrontery.” 

“Daring effrontery! Isn’t your language a trifle strong, 
Hetty?” 

He spoke just as quietly, but there was a faint look of 
surprise on his face as he concluded with: 

“ It runs in my head that when you came down to the 
Hall you made some sort of promise of a reformation, 
trying to live in peace and happiness, and all that sort of 
thing, but it looks to me, my dear Lady Landimere, as 
if you were working up one of your regular tornadoes. 
Perhaps I am the discordant element. I’ll retire ” 

He rose with these words, but he did not finish his 
sentence, neither did he reach the door. Her ladyship 
was there before him, there with the spring of a tigress, 
and a tigress she looked as she planted herself against the 
door and faced him. 

He looked at her a moment, then very coolly sat down 
again. This exhibition of her ladyship’s temper was not 
new to him. He was a trifle whiter; otherwise, whether 
he knew what was coming or not, he seemed prepared 
for anything she might say. 

“You shall stay here!” she cried. 

“Yes, perhaps I had better for the present; but pray 
remember. Countess of Landimere, that your household 
has ears, and I am not deaf.” 

“ What matter how I speak? They might as well hear 
it to-day as to-morrow. The whole world shall know it 
to-morrow. At last your hypocrisy shall be laid bare, 
my virtuous Lord Landimere.” 

He pricked up his ears and turned red. He had goaded 
her to fury, and once started, she lost all control of her- 
self. 

“ Ah, no wonder you turn red — you know you are found 
out! You never ^new anything wrong of me, but you 
made your insinuations, and threatened me and tortured 
me. I came down here because you insinuated that the 
world said ill-natured things about me, and in good faith 
I promised you that you could do with me as you pleased. 


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that I would be subject to your guidance, and I would 
remain here forever if you wished me to.” 

“Oh, Hetty!” 

He leaned back, with a very weary air, as he spoke and 
rubbed his forehead. He was compelled to listen to her, 
but he made the blaze burn brighter by saying: 

“Be merciful, and cut it short. What effect do you 
want to produce? You might as well tell me at once, for 
I am sure I will see it in a moment. I assure you, Hetty, 
there is no novelty about this thing.” 

The only change in his manner was that he ended with 
a sneer. 

“Oh, you needn’t sneer!” she cried. “There is no 
novelty in this thing — of course not! You have been de- 
ceiving me all along with your cant and your sneers, and 
I, poor fool, believed in you. I came down here and 
buried myself alive to please you, and for what? Well, 
thank Heaven, to find you out, and not only you, but 
your fine family, who have done their best to encourage 
you in your evil way, and have succeeded at last in separ- 
ating us; your lovely sister, that paragon of high breed- 
ing and innocence, who is not above coming between 
husband and wife. Ah! I have found you all out! You 
thought yourself very cunning with your lying letters 
from London, pretending you were there, just as you 
wrote me when I was in Paris, and you yourself were in 
Paris at the same time. When I accused you of it I al- 
lowed you to persuade me I was wrong; but you cannot 
persuade me this time. All little systems have their day, 
and your little London arrangement has failed this time. 
I received a letter from you yesterday purporting to have 
been written in London the night before. It was, but 
not by you; rather, it was not sent by you from there, 
for at that hour, and for hours before it, you were at Gor- 
don Court.” 

“That is a lie, and you know it.” 

He grew very red while she was talking, but he turned 
white and trembled as he contradicted her. 

“It is the truth,” she cried. “I had proof yesterday 
that you were there, and I went to the Court last night 
just to learn whether you would be denied to me; 
just to learn whether you had accessaries, and your 


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121 


honorable sister lied to me. She said you were not 
there ■■ 

“ By heavens, she told you the truth, and don't say 
again ” 

“She lied to me. She told me the truth when she 
denied you were there then, for, of course, after your 
escapade yesterday, you took your departure — you were 
afraid of being found out; but she lied when she said 
you had not been there, or inferred as much when with 
such perfect innocence she declared she did not know you 
had returned from London.” 

He started up when he asserted Kate had told the 
truth, but he sat down again, and he said in an unnatu- 
rally calm voice: 

“ What proof have you that I was at Gordon Court?” 

“ Mr. Tremaine saw you ” 

“Tremaine again! Well, by Jove, this is getting in- 
teresting. Tremaine told you he saw me in Paris when I 
was in London. The man must be laboring under an illu- 
sion, or” — Lord Landimere looked as if he had been 
struck with a new idea — “ perhaps he is in your service, 
playing the part of detective? I am sure he must be 
interested ” 

“Without a doubt, he is interested in you, and with 
very good reason.” 

He had fallen into his indifferent, aggravating manner 
again, and her only wish was to say the most damaging 
thing she could think. What matter what she said, since 
she could prove it true? 

“ Interested in me! Is he, indeed? Well, since he 
has seen fit to tell you this ghost story, and you are mak- 
ing such capital out of it, suppose we invite Tremaine 
here, and let him make this charge to my face?” 

“Ah! but you will have to invite some one else 
here- ” 

“More witnesses against me!” and this time he laughed 
sarcastically. 

“Yes, you shall have to ask Mrs. Tremaine here. She 
has admitted to her husband that you were with her to 
the Bocks yesterday. Now, then, perhaps you will still 
assert you were in London? And maybe you are not so 
surprised now that Mr. Tremaine is interested in you?” 

He looked at her in blank astonishment. 


12*3 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


It was her turn to triumph at last, and she smiled and 
showed her teeth most beautifully. 

“ What do you mean?” 

He spoke and looked utterly helpless. 

“ I simply mean that you are found out, that you have 
been carrying on an intrigue with Mrs. Tremaine ” 

“Woman, what are you saying?” and he started to his 
feet. 

“None of that, Vere! You can't terrorize me! I 
mean just what I say. I prevented your marriage with 
that woman, but you love her yet. I did not tell you that 
I went to her in Philadelphia the night before we were 
married by the mayor. I thought I would wait my time 
to tell you, and my time has surely come. You have de- 
ceived me, you have been untrue to me, and Kate Gordon 
knows it, and what is more, Marcus Tremaine knows it. 
I told him recently what ho had always been kept in 
ignorance of, that his wife was engaged to you, and yes- 
terday he saw you coming from the island with her and 
followed you to Gordon Court.” 

He put his hand up to his head and sunk back in the 
chair, very much like a man who realized he had re- 
ceived a death-stroke. Horror had been creeping into 
his face while she was talking. He could not interrupt 
her, he dared not until he had heard every word she had 
to say. When she paused, he gave voice to his horror in 
two words, as he sunk back: 

“Great God!” 

She no longer stood rigidly by the door — she could af- 
ford to give way now. Her fury was all gbne; and she 
stood smiling at her work. If she had any heart she 
could not help pitying him. He looked, indeed, like a 
man hopelessly crushed by the evidence of his crime. 

“"What have you to say for yourself?” She spoke very 
deliberately now. “ You and your family have tried to 
fasten guilt upon me, but my Lord Landimere, the tables 
are turned; to-morrow the world will know me as a faith- 
ful but wronged wife, and your own family — your sweet 
sister, and sweeter cousin, who denied me to you last 
night, shall be compelled to testify in my behalf.” 

“ Stop,” be said, in a suppressed voice; “ don’t men- 
tion the women of my family again. Their names are 
too pure to come from a mouth so foul.” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


1 23 

“ That sounds well, my virtuous lord. Your only de- 
fense of them and yourself is to abuse me. Perhaps the 
courts of England will accept such a defense!” 

It was now her turn to be mocking and sarcastic. He 
did not seem to heed her words. His knees supported his 
elbows, and his hands pressed his head, as if he were try- 
ing to think. She stood watching him, and waiting for 
him to speak. Presently he looked up at her and said: 

“ The night before you met me you went to Edna For- 
rest and told her you were Vere Gordon’s wife?” 

“ Yes, I did. Hasn’t she told you about it?” 

“ She has not. Perhaps you will be kind enough now 
to tell me what she said that night?” 

“ Oh, she took on dreadfully,” and she told him all 
about it for the purpose of wringing his heart, which she 
succeeded in doing, for he covered his face and fairly 
groaned in anguish. 

“ And her husband did not know she was engaged to 
Yere Gordon until you told him?” 

“ No, she married out of pique, and she never breathed 
a word of it to him, nor did he suspect it until I told 
him.” 

“ How did you come to tell him such a thing?” he 
asked, gaining control over himself, and looking at her 
steadily. 

“ I met him one evening in Paris, and he told me he 
had met you, and his wife had met yon. I believed you 
were in London, but I saw at once you had reason for 
being in Paris unknown to me. You were with Mrs. 
Tremaine. I knew it, and I told her husband the whole 
story.” 

“ And he has been watching me ever since?” 

“He has been watching his wife. He ran lip to Lon- 
don for a few days, came back and found his wife had 
been spending the time at Gordon Court with you — dis- 
covered it very nicely, just when he came home,” and 
she told him how Tremaine saw him coming from the 
island with Edna and followed him to Gordon Court. 

He looked appalled by the story, but his^yes rested on 
her as if he were taking her measure. When she stopped 
talking she became uncomfortable under his gaze, and in 
sheer bravado she said: 

“ Well, can I give you any further information?” 


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He rose, and, his eyes still on her, said: 

“ You fiend!” 

“ Thank you,” she said, with a ringing laugh; “ but 
you have discovered no missing link in the evidence.” 

“ I have only this to say to you now. I deny ever 
having met Mr. or Mrs. Tremaine in Paris, or at Gordon 
Court, or at the Rocks, or anywhere else, since I left 
them in America, and I deny being in this neighborhood 
since I left for London nearly a month ago. Now, then, 
prove what I say isn’t true.” 

And before her ladyship could answer he was gone. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

“LORD LANDIMERE AT MRS. TREMAINE’S SERVICE.” 

The countess was nothing daunted by her lord leaving 
the scene so suddenly. It was simply bravado, she 
thought, as she saw by his conduct that he knew his case 
was a hopeless one. Still, she thought he would bear 
watching, and she wondered what his next movement 
would be, and what hers ought to be. 

She questioned her maid, and learned that he had 
retired to his own apartment. She stole to his door and 
listened. He was pacing up and down. She went back 
to listen three times, and each time she heard his tread. 

An hour later she saw him depart on horseback. She 
watched the direction he took. She hadn’t a doubt he 
was going to the Court. She knew, after what she had 
told him, he would not venture to the Nest. 

Yet she must take every precaution. She had prom- 
ised to communicate with Tremaine this morning, and 
he would be on the lookout and expecting it, so she at 
once dispatched her maid with the following note: 

“ He has come home, and denies flatly that he was at 
the Court yesterday, or that he has seen Mrs. T. since 
he left America. He has left the house — gone to 
Gordon Court, I presume. Keep a sharp lookout, and 
intercept any communication he may send Mrs. T. I 
think I shall take open proceedings against him at once. 
Though he denied everything, he was a perfect picture of 
guilt.” 

If Lord Landimere had been to the Court, he was 
there and back in an incredibly short sjiace of time, and 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR . 


12 ‘ 


he gave her ladyship a surprise by coming directly to her, 
and saying: 

“ Will you do me the honor to be ready to accompany 
me to the 'Nest at three o’clock? Since Mr. Tremaine 
has made certain statements about me, and Mrs. Tremaine 
has made admissions, I think it would be as well for 
them to repeat them in your presence to my face. I 
have already notified Mr. Tremaine we would call on 
him.” 

He did not wait for her reply. Why should he? Un- 
der the circumstances, there was but one thing she could 
do — comply with his request. 

After receiving Lady Landimere’s note, Tremaine was 
on the lookout for a communication from Lord Landh 
mere to Edna, but, to his surprise, the communication 
came from that gentleman, not tp Edna, but to himself. 
It read: 

“ Marcus Tremaine, Esq.: 

“ Dear Sir, — You have made certain reports to my 
wife, and Mrs. Tremaine has stated she was in my com- 
pany at the Rocks yesterday, the truth of which I deny 
in toto. I shall call with Lady Landimere at three for 
an explanation. Trusting the hour will be convenient for 
you, I am, very truly yours, 

“Vere Gordon Landimere.” 

Tremaine’s ruddy face turned white as he read this 
statement. 

“ By heavens, this is cool cheek! Well, my lord, you 
could not make a move that would better suit me.” 

He kept watch over his wife from that moment. lie 
saw that no one called on her, and that she received no 
message of any kind. 

Edna wondered why he kept near her so long. As 
three o’clock approached, he became nervous. He knew 
she would not receive Lady Landimere. He must man- 
age to get to the drawing-room without her knowing 
whom she was to meet. 

At three o’clock precisely there was an arrjval, and he 
was on the landing to intercept the footman. 

“Who is it?” he whispered, with a shake of his finger 
to impress silence. 

‘•'Miss Gordon and Miss Dean, and they asked if Lord 


126 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


and Lady Landimere had arrived, as they were to meet 
them here/’ 

Tremaine’s heart gave a bound of relief. The whole 
family were to be brought in to testify, but he was not 
afraid of them, and the two ladies’ coming first was very 
fortunate. He saw his way clear now, and he said to the 
footman : 

“Wait until Lord and Lady Landimere arrive, then 
bring only Miss Gordon and Miss Dean’s names to Mrs. 
Tremaine, just as you are doing now. Do not mention 
the Landimeres — do you understand?” 

The footman understood perfectly, and he had scarcely 
returned to the lower hall when the Landimeres arrived. 

“ Now, then,” Lord Landimere said, when he entered 
the drawing-room with his wife, “ I will just step behind 
this portiere, and, Kate and Amy, whatever you hear, 
have nothing to say. Madam,” he said, turning to his 
wife, “I will leave it to you to question Mrs. Tremaine 
as you please, but I must hear her accuse me of being at 
the Hocks with her yesterday.” 

“She cannot deny it in her husband’s presence,” said 
her ladyship, imperiously, and Kate and Amy looked at 
each other in growing astonishment. 

They were invited here by Lord Landimere, but for 
what purpose they did not know. 

Lord Landimere stepped behind the portiere , Her 
ladyship stepped to the window to gain control, and to 
conceal herself until Mrs. Tremaine had spoken to Kate 
and Amy. 

A few moments later Edna came in, accompanied by 
her husband. Kate and Amy looked foolish. Edna, 
suspecting nothing, gave them a cordial greeting, and 
was about to seat herself near them, when a voice behind 
her said: 

“Good-day, Mrs. Tremaine. I hope you will pardon 
this seeming intrusion.” 

“ Lady Landimere!” 

The name escaped Edna’s lips before she was aware of 
it, as she drew back from her ladyship. 

Had this woman the effrontery to force herself upon 
her under the protection of Kate and Amy? was the 
thought that flashed through Edna’s mind. But the 
presence of Kate and Amy, much as Edna loved them. 


MARRIED BY TIIE MAYOR. 


127 


could not influence lier to receive this creature, and she 
stood upon her dignity at once. 

“ Madam,” she said,, in her clear, soft voice, “I did 
not expect to have such an honor thrust upon me.” 

Her ladyship posed instantly. She drew herself up as 
high as she possibly could get, her eyes flashed, and she 
was about to speak, when Tremaine stepped between 
them. 

“ Pardon me, Edna, I should have told you Lady 
Landimere was coming here to ask you a few questions.” 

Edna looked at him with cool scorn as she said: 

“ And you knew Lady Landimere was coming here?” 

“ I forgot to tell you.” 

Edna bowed in mocking acknowledgment of his kind 
intentions. 

“ You need not be afraid, Mrs. Tremaine, that I will 
trouble you with my presence any longer than to ask you 
a few questions which are of vital importance to me, and 
to my relatives here,” said her ladyship. 

The last clause claimed Edna’s attention. She looked 
at Kate and Amy, but they looked bewildered. 

“You have told your husband that Lord Landimere 
accompanied you to the Rocks yesterday?” said Lady 
Landimere, and she waited for Mrs. Tremaine’s reply. 

“ My husband asked me of whom our party was made 
up,” said Edna, quietly, “and with the rest I mentioned 
Lord Landimere’s name.” 

Kate and Amy gave little exclamations of surprise, and 
her ladyship said, still more imperiously: 

“And you still assert Lord Landimere was with that 
party yesterday?” 

“ Yes,” Edna said, wonderingly, “he was with us.” 

Lady Landimere could. not restrain her triumph. 

“You hear, Miss Gordon and Miss Dean, and you de- 
nied him to me last night. You didn’t know that he had 
returned from London,” and her ladyship laughed mock- 
ingly, as she turned to the portiere and said: “Come 
forth, Lord Innocent — I think you have heard enough.” 

And a man stepped from behind the curtain and stood 
before Marcus Tremaine and his wife. 

The sudden appearance of the man made them speech- 
less for the moment, and in that moment Lord Landi- 


128 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


mere was forgotten, for Marcus Tremaine stepped for- 
ward, holding out his hand and saying: 

“ Why, Edna, if I am not mistaken, this is our old ac- 
quaintance, Mr. Clifford. For Heaven’s sake, old fellow, 
where did you come from?” 

“One moment,” said the gentleman, stepping back 
from Tremaine. “ Let me introduce myself. I was 
Clifford when we met before: I am Lord Landimere to- 
day, at your service, Mrs. Tremaine,” and he held out 
his hand to Edna. 

She let him take her hand, but she could not speak, 
nor could any one else. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE WAGES OF SIN. 

The statement Lord Landimere made in a few words 
must have produced a terrible shock. Even Amy and 
Kate, to whom the meaning of the words was unintelligi- 
ble, knew that they conveyed something of awful im- 
portance, for the faces of Lady Landimere, Edna and 
Tremaine portrayed such strange emotions, while they 
stood speechless. 

These three were shocked, dazed; for the time they 
were unable to grasp all that those few words meant. 

“ Mrs. Tremaine, I want to ask you a question before 

I Pardon me — I know the terrible revelation that 

has come to you, but won’t you answer me before we 
have any further explanation? Where did you see me 
last?” 

“In Philadelphia, but you — you ” 

“One moment, Mrs. Tremaine,” he said, clasping her 
hand more closely, as if to give her strength; “that was 
nearly two years and a half ago, was it not?” 

“ I think so,” and Edna put her disengaged hand to 
her head. 

“ And, Mr. Tremaine, may I ask if you have seen me 
in that time? I believe you are my principal accuser?” 

“I have not met you in that time, but you are not 
Lord Landimere! Lady Landimere, this man is not your 
husband!” cried Tremaine, becoming excited, and refus- 
ing to believe what was fast dawning upon him. 

“ Do you mean to say you haven’t seen Mm?” snid 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


1$9 


Lady Landimere, pale and trembling, as she pointed 
tragically at his lordship. 

Tremaine need ask no more questions. The exclama- 
tion was his answer. There was a moment's silence, 
then Lord Landimere said: 

“ Mrs. Tremaine, you have suffered a wrong, through 
me, that can never be righted in this world, and not only 
you, but the man who is my dearest friend on earth. That 
wrong was perpetrated when this woman "—and he indi- 
cated his wife by a contemptuous nod— “ called on you 
one night in Philadelphia. She was not guilty of inten- 
tionally injuring you; if she had not been laboring under 
a terrible mistake she would have been doing you a serv- 
ice. To my everlasting shame, I shall have to acknowl- 
edge I married this woman ” 

“ Sir !” cried Lady Landimere. 

“ Madam,” said her husband, “the Landimere pride 
is the cloak that has shielded you so long. I cast it aside 
here with the covering you have torn from poor human 
hearts. I repeat, I married this woman in good faith, 
but thought I was legally free from her before I went to 
America; I was mistaken. She followed me, learned 
that I was engaged to you, as she told me to-day for the 
first time, and she sought you out and told you that I was 
her husband. She told you the truth. Vere Gordon was 
her husband, but the man you loved was not Vere Gor- 
don. He was Gordon Clifford — I was Richard Vere Gor- 
don. We exchanged names before going to America for 
a purpose which I need not relate here. Mrs. Tremaine, 
you understand what I am saying?” 

He asked the question in alarm, as Edna did not at- 
tempt a comment, and she was looking at him with an 
intensity that startled him. 

Amy’s arm circled her waist when Landimere had asked 
that question. 

“ Vere, you have kept Mrs. Tremaine standing all this 
time. Won’t you be seated, dear?” said Amy, in a voice 
low with sadness. 

“ No — no,” Edna said, in a voice as intense as her look, 
“let me stand — don’t interrupt him — he has something 
more to tell. I want to hear it all — all!” 

“ Mrs. Tremaine,” and Lord Landimere’s voice trembled 
with emotion — his heart ached for her — “ we should thank 


130 


MARRIED BY TliE MAYOR. 


God for this day, for it has saved you from suffering a 
still more grievous wrong through me. Your honor and 
mine have been plotted against, and if this woman was 
innocent of wronging you before, she is not innocent in 
plotting this still greater wrong, but she is not alone in 
her guilt. The two people of all people in this world 
who should have kept our honor untarnished have de- 
mined to bring ignominy upon us/’ 

“ Take care, Lord Landimere, what you say,” cried 
Tremaine, who thought it was time to put in a defense. 
“ Remember, I could not know that you misrepresented 
yourself to us at Cape May.” 

“ Sir!” cried Landimere, haughtily,” your crime is the 
same, whether I am the man or not.” 

“ Crime!” said Tremaine, first turning livid, as if that 
term frightened him, then glaring in a bullying manner 
at Landimere, he was about to speak again, when his 
lordship quietly interrupted him, saying: 

“Yes, crime! and for that word I am prepared to 
answer you in another place and at a proper time. You 
have entered into a conspiracy w'ith this woman against 
your wife’s honor, which it was your first duty to protect. 
1 don’t know what your motive was, sir, but it seems to 
me that your incentive was the hope of convicting your 
wife. Do you suppose if I had acted the part of the 
cowardly spy, as you have, that woman would bear the 
name of Landimere to-day?” and he pointed his finger 
scornfully at Lady Landimere. 

But all his scorn and wrath were powerless to rouse her 
ladyship’s anger, violent as it habitually was. She saw 
her case was lost, and she had stepped beyond the pale of 
her lord’s forgiveness. She looked beseechingly at Tre- 
maine as her husband denounced her. Tremaine felt 
that he could afford to let Lord Landimere say no more. 
Every word that had been said struck terror to his heart. 
How dared Landimere talk to him in this manner? Did 
he suspect the relation that existed between him (Tre- 
maine) and Lady Landimere? Impossible! thought 
Tremaine, and he at once assumed the indignant role. 

“You will leave my house this instant, sir, or I shall 
have you ” 

“ I shall spare you that trouble, Mr. Tremaine. Any 
communication from you will find me at Gordon Court.” 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


131 


cc Lord Landimere, stay — I have not yet spoken,” said 
Edna ? laying her hand on his arm. 

She thought she was speaking loudly, yet her voice was 
onhr an intense whisper. 

Tremaine sneered. 

“ Madam, it would be more becoming your part if you 
remained silent. You forget, rather you force me to re- 
mind you, that Lord Landimere and your former lover 
not being identical does not lessen your guilt.” 

“ Guilt!” said Edna, as she touched the bell that was 
near her — “ you accuse me of guilt?” and she turned from 
the bell and looked at him. He tried his best to assert 
the role of injured husband, but it melted beneath her 
gaze. And he looked the coward he was. “Marcus 
Tremaine, I have been a true wife to you; in your heart 
you know it, and were it not for this creature’s fascina- 
tion, you never would have thought otherwise.” 

It was a truth he could not summon courage to deny, 
but it roused Lady Landimere to a sense of impending 
danger. 

“ Mrs. Tremaine, be careful what you say. Don’t dare 
say anything to implicate me in your trouble with your 
husband. If you do, you will be sorry. I shall not re- 
main to be thus insulted.” 

“ Madam, you have forced yourself upon me, and you 
shall stay and take the consequences,” and Edna stepped 
to the door to speak to the maid, who was knocking in 
answer to her ring; then turning to Lady Landimere, but 
still keeping her position near the door, she continued: 
“ I found you here, madam, the picture of triumph. 
Aided by the man who calls himself my husband and- pro- 
tector in planning a most diabolical crime, you came here 
to witness its completion” — here Tremaine attempted to 
interrupt her, but with a wave of her hand she silenced 
him— “ to make me convict your husband and condemn 
myself from my own lips; but, Lady Landimere and Mr. 
Tremaine, you have been caught in the trap of your own 
setting. Lord Landimere, I owe a duty to you and to 
myself which I am bound to perform. My lord, your 
honor has been betrayed by the woman who this day tried 
•to drag your name through the mire and exonerate her- 
self, while she freed herself from you by placing the dis- 
honor at your door — and for what reason? Ah! it is no 


132 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


wonder, my lord, that you and your relatives look sur- 
prised; and you will look more surprised still when I tell 
you that this man, whom I have called husband for the 
last time, and the woman who had our ruin already pre- 
pared, arc themselves guilty of breaking their marital 
faith; that an intrigue has been going on between them. 
Heaven only knows for how long, and it was at this 
woman’s call from Paris that Mr. Tremaine crossed the 
Atlantic.” 

“It is false!” cried Lady Landimere, pale and trem- 
bling. 

“It is a lie!” echoed Tremaine. 

There was a knock, and Edna opened the door and 
took a box from the maid. 

“ I shall prove what I said,” Edna continued, when 
she closed the door. 

She touched a spring and the lid of the box flew open. 

“Here, Lord Landimere, is some documentary evi- 
dence for you,” and she put in his hand Lady Landi 
mere’s cablegram, and her letter to Tremaine after he 
reached Paris. As she did so, she said: “You will sec 
the cablegram has Lady Landimere’s initials, the letter 
her name. ” 

This was too much for the conspirators. Lady Landi- 
mere sunk into a chair and burst into' a fit of weeping, 
and declared it was false — all false — and she would 
prove it to his lordship’s satisfaction, and she called on 
Mr. Tremaine to say that she could, but Tremaine heard 
nothing for the time— he could only see Lord Landi- 
mere reading those papers. 

“Oh, this is terrible, Amy,” said Kate. “Let us go, 
we have heard enough ” 

“No,” said Edna, sadly; “if you care anything for me, 
Miss Gordon, do not go. I have something more to say 
— something of vital importance to myself.” 

“Stay, Kate,” said Lord Landimere, authoritatively. 
“Mrs. Tremaine has done me an everlasting service. We 
are hers to command.” 

His lordship’s face was as white as death, but it was 
not from fear or terror. He felt his wrong so deeply 
that a deadly rage consumed him, and he had a strug- 
gle to listen calmly to Edna, who in a sad, sweet voice 
began her life on the night Lady Landimere called on 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


138 


her in Philadelphia, and told her there, in the presence 
of her husband, the trial she had passed through, taking 
nothing from nor adding anything to her mental wretch- 
edness, her temptations and triumph, though she knew 
of her husband’s infidelity. Even Tremaine was touched 
when she told him she thought it her duty to win him, I 
and when she was trying to do it he deceived her and! 
brought her down to the*' vicinity of Landimere Hall. 
She told her story simply and briefly. Truth and the 
purity of her life sustained her. She strained for no 
effect, even when she concluded with : 

“ Lady Landimere, in the letter your husband now 
holds you said you would take great pleasure in calling 
on me. If you have not received all the pleasure you 
anticipated, you at least have received your deserts. Will 
you excuse me now?” She looked at Lord Landimere, 
Kate and Amy as she asked the qulstion, bowed, and left 
the room. 

“ Come, Kate and Amy, this is no longer any place for 
you. As for you, sir, you may thank your lucky star we 
are in England. If we were in France I might be foolish 
enough to descend to a duel with you. As it is, I will let 
the just law of my country avenge my wrongs.” 

He passed out with Kate and Amy. He did not look 
at his wife, and Idle guilty man and woman were left 
alone. 

What was left for them to do? But one thing, they 
thought, and they did it. 

That night Marcus Tremaine eloped for the second 
time. 

And this time it was with another man’s wife. 

Lord Landimere heard it next morning. He did not 
mind it. He would have had to make his wrongs known 
to the world, and this made his way all the easier. 

But poor Edna, while in her secret heart she was 
thankful for her freedom, felt her position before the 
world, as only the deserted wife can feel it. 

It was a terrible morning in her life. She never forgot, 
it. At the age of nineteen, when most women scarcely 
know what life means, she reached an awful climax. 
Alone, deserted, left without means in a strange land. 
Would God permit the authors of her misery to go on 
their way and be happy? She shuddered. She had been 


134 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


true to Marcus Tremaine, and this was her reward. It 
was hard — very hard — to hold to her faith in this hour. 

She must go back to America at once — but to whom 
would she go? Miss Sarah Leighton was still her friend, 
had visited her in New York, but Miss Leighton lived 
with her brother, and Henry Leighton never forgave 
Edna for the part she played. She never explained 
why she married Marcus Tremaine, nor did Miss Leigh- 
ton expect any explanation. It was perfectly natural 
to her that Edna should marry him, though “ Henry had 
a great many nonsensical ideas about it," as Miss Leigh- 
ton said. 

Edna had always grieved because she could not tell the 
truth to Henry Leighton. How could she tell him what 
she herself did not know? But she knew it now, and on 
the impulse of the moment she went to her desk and 
wrote the whole truth to him, explaining fully what she 
could not explain before. 

The sheets were tear-stained. They told the story of a 
broken heart. She was about to inclose her letter, when 
her maid came in to say Miss Gordon and Miss Dean 
wished to see her. Edna dropped the envelope and went 
down-stairs. 

It was the first time they had met since yesterday, and 
Kate and Amy took Edna in their arms and wept over 
her and talked to her as if she were their sister. 

“ We have something to tell you, dear/’ Kate said. 

Edna looked at her. Did Kate bring any word from 
the man who was the victim of Lady Landimere’s terrible 
mistake? Kate’s face reflected bad news. 

“What is it? Don’t be afraid. I think I can bear 
anything now.’’ 

“I have brought you ill-tidings, indeed, though God 
knows I hope it will bring you consolation. Mrs. Tre- 
maine, there has been a terrible accident on the railway, 

and ” Kate paused, then in a low voice she said: 

“ God did not let them go far.” 

“They are not ” 

Edna did not finish the sentence. 

“ Mr. Tremaine is dead, and Lady Landimere is fatally 
injured. Yere has gone up to London.” 

Edna fell upon her knees, and buried her face in the 
cushion of a chair. 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


135 


Kate knelt down beside her. 

“ We are at least saved the disgrace. There will be no 
need of divorce now. The world will never know how 
bad they were. They have received the wages of their 
sin.” 

When Edna went back to her writing-desk, she added 
a postscript to her letter. The postscript was the news 
Kate brought her, to which was added: 

“This morning I was a deserted wife — noon finds me 
a widow. I have, indeed, been spared much. God has 
saved me from the shame Marcus Tremaine tried to inflict 
upon me.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A GLOWING PAGE. 

It was late in the afternoon of a delightful day in Sep- 
tember. The throng had left Cape May, but many re- 
mained to enjoy the glorious weather and grand storms of 
September. 

Among the many was a gentleman for whom Cape May 
had some peculiar fascination, since he declared to him- 
self that he came here against his will, and cursed him- 
self for a fool for coming. He had been strolling aimless- 
ly along the beach for the past hour, and, as he had met 
no familiar faces, although he tried to convince himself 
he did not wish to meet any, he was returning to hishotel 
disappointed, when, in his reverie, he came into collision 
with another gentleman, who must have been equally 
absent-minded. 

“ Beg pardon!” said the other — “Oh, why, if I am not 
mistaken, you are Mr. Vere Gordon!” as they looked in 
each other's faces. 

The gentleman shook his head, and laughingly said: 

“That is not my name.’’ 

“No?” said the other, in surprise. “Then I beg 
your pardon; but I could have sworn that you were the 
gentleman I met at the Leightons a few — let me see, 
four years ago? Yes, it is four years, for I was talking 
about it to Lord Landimere — he was Mr. Clifford then, a 
friend of yours. Why, your very laugh is so familiar!” 

“Yes, Mr. Rowley,” said the gentleman, offering his 
hand, “lam your old acquaintance, but my name is not 


136 MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 

Yere Gordon, but Gordon Clifford. Don’t look sur- 
prised. It is easily explained. Myself and my friend 
Lord Landimere changed names when we were here be- 
fore, for a very good reason, which concerned only our- 
selves, but, positively, it keeps me busy explaining since 
1 came back.” 

“ Well, that’s pretty good, too,” said Rowley, shaking 
hands. 

“ But very inconvenient,” laughed Gordon. 

“I should think so. Now, you should have come into 
a title, like your friend, and we would never have been 
the wis&r.” 

“ Yes. Did you say you met Landimere?” 

“ He was here — left last night to join some relatives in 
New York ” 

“ Ah!” said Gordon, regretfully, “ that’s too bad. I 
arrived too late.” 

“ Oh, if you are going to stay, you will see him. lie is 
coming back with his friends in a few days.” 

“ Who are here — any of my old acquaintances?” said 
Gordon, carelessly. 

“Have you seen the Leightons? They are still at 
their cottage. The Leightons include Mrs. Tremaine, of 
course. She went back to them after her husband’s 
death.” 

“ Is her husband dead?” • 

And Gordon could not retain his careless manner. 

“ Didn’t you know it? Why, yes; was killed on a rail- 
way in England.” 

“ 1 have been in India a year and a half, and know 
nothing.” 

“ Oh, you ought to see her! She is the attraction at 
Cape May, though she keeps very quiet. Scarcely out of 
mourning, I believe. A widow only twenty-one, as beau- 
tiful as a dream, and one of the wealthiest women in the 
United States,” said Rowley, rapturously. 

“Truly, what more could be desired!” said Gordon, 
with a discordaut laugh. 

“Ah! there is Mrs. Tremaine and Mr. Leighton 
now ” 

“ Where?” said Gordon, trying to keep cool. 

“ Don’t you see — on the hotel steps? I suppose they 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 187 

are calling, as there are a number of friends of theirs at 
the hotel.” 

Gordon lost the explanation. He had caught a glimpse 
of the most beautiful face he ever beheld, a beauty en- 
hanced since last he saw it. The tenderness, love, and 
resignation of that face were not of this world. He felt 
it even in that glimpse, yet he would not give way, nor 
be led by an intuition. He ridiculed her looks. It was 
an expression very becoming a young widow, quite the 
proper thing, in fact, and was cultivated accordingly. 

He left Eowley and walked up to the hotel, instead 
of entering, he lingered on the piazza. He was there 
about fifteen minutes — he thought it an age — when he 
saw Mr. Leighton at the door. He walked toward the 
old gentleman, who recognized him as he drew near. 

“ Why, my dear boy, is it really you!” and Mr. Leigh- 
ton grasped Gordon’s hand. 

“ Believe me, I am glad to see you, Mr. Leighton. 1 
found out only a few moments ago you were at the Cape. 
I hope Miss Leighton is well?” 

“Oh, yes, quite well, but — but there is somebody else 
with us,” said the old gentleman, hesitatingly. “Some- 
body who, I know, will be glad to see you. It was a 
terrible mistake, my poor boy, and she has suffered for it, 
but it is not too late. Here she comes now. I know she 
would not have me say a word,” and the old gentleman’s 
voice fell. 

Gordon turned his face from the door. He heard the 
rustle of a woman’s garments, a light footstep. His 
senses, his heart told him she was near, and he slightly 
raised his voice, as he said: 

I will see you again, Mr. Leighton, and give my best 
wishes to Miss Leighton; as for — Mrs. Tremaine, I wish 
to be frank with you, I have no desire to meet her ever 
again.” 

He walked away. She heard, and he knew it. If it 
was for this he had come to Cape May, now he was satis- 
fied. Satisfied with himself! Was he? He went to his 
room and walked the floor, and raved. He denounced 
himself in strong|terms for coming here. He forgot all 
about his dinner, and swore he would leave next morning. 

But three nights after found him at a ball given by 
Mrs. Durant, one of the leaders at Cape May. It was 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR, 


188 

the closing entertainment of a series given by that lady, 
and was to mark her departure for her city home. It was 
said to be very select, which must prove the select numer- 
ous, for Mrs. Durantfs house was thronged. 

To Colonel Gordon Clifford's surprise, for he had won 
that title in her majesty's service in India, he saw Landi- 
mere talking to tiieir old acquaintance, Cora Taunton. 

“It is strange that Landimere and I should come back 
at the same time. How I cursed the hour I came with 
him here, and yet it was not his fault. Ah, there are 
Kate and Amy! And Sir Robert, by Jove!" 

He wanted to join some of them, but he was long in 
doing it, the crowd was so great. He made his way first 
to Kate, who was now Lady Conway. 

To say that Kate was delighted to see him would not 
be doing full justice to her feelings. 

“I am so glad, so glad to meet you here," she said, 
over and over again, as she looked at him, as he thought, 
strangely. “ You don’t know how wretched we were be- 
cause you went away that day. If you had only stayed 
until the next." 

“ Then I would be wretched, perhaps," he laughed, 
not quite understanding her. 

Kate knew that her brother had written a full explana- 
tion to Gordon, who had left for India the morning after 
his episode with Edna at the Rocks, and just then Amy 
joined them. 

Lord Landimere was talking the while to Cora Taun- 
ton. She was known now as Mrs. Taunton. She married 
Count Blandenberg, and had all the glory of being a 
countess for a short season. In that season the count 
squandered her fortune in gambling and riotous living, 
abused her even to inflicting personal violence, then sep- 
arated himself from her. She applied for a divorce, ob- 
tained it, and returning to her native land, resumed her 
family name. 

Her experience did not improve her disposition. She 
was more ready than ever to say ill-natured things. She 
was exceedingly kind to Lord Landimere. She did not 
remember how often she had snubbed him as plain Mr. 
Clifford. Lord Landimere’s memory was good, if hers 
was not. But it amused him now to think how infatu- 
ated he was with her four years ago. How wise he had 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


ISO 


grown in four years! He saw through her maneuvers to 
bait a lord, and enjoyed it thoroughly. 

“ Why, there’s Mr. Vere Gordon,” she said, seeing 
Colonel Clifford talking to Amy. 

Landimere was surprised, indeed, as he looked in the 
direction she indicated. 

“ Thank Heaven, he has come!” was Landimere’s 
mental comment. “ His name is Gordon Clifford now, 
Colonel Gordon Clifford. He also has been left a family 
inheritance, I believe, with a name,” said Vere to Cora, 
telling a misleading truth. 

“ Well, how fortunate you have been! And he is just 
as handsome as ever, isn’t he?” 

“I hope my good fortune hasn’t detracted from my 
good looks,” said Vere, laughing. 

“ Oh, Lord Landimere, you know I never could think 

you anything but ” Here Cora blushed and simpered, 

and dropped her eyelids; then suddenly raising her eyes 
to his, she very prettily, as if covering her confusion, 
said: “ Is the colonel married? Who is that beautiful 
lady talking to him? Do you know?” 

“She is a distant relative. All the Gordons and Clif- 
fords are related. She is his cousin, and I am glad you 
think her beautiful — she is my wife.” 

There was no pretty pretense of confusion now. It was 
a hateful reality, since it could not be concealed. She 
was a miserable failure when she tried to say: 

“Why, this is a surprise, but I am so pleased.” 

Lord Landimere enjoyed the situation immensely. 
Cora’s sweetness and attention chilled almost instantly, 
and in a few moments she dropped him as if he were a 
piece of ice. 

The meeting of Landimere and Gordon was an expres- 
sion of their life-long friendship. 

“Thank God we meet here again,” said Landimere, 
when for a moment they stood alone. “Gordon, I would 
give my life, dearly as I prize it, to make you happy. I 
want to hear you say you forgive me ” 

“Why, Vere, I never thought of blaming you.” 

“ But you said you felt that you had turned to a dark 
page in your life when you consented to take my name 
coming to America,” 


140 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


“Yes, I did, Yere — I did turn to a dark page, but let 
us mention it no more.” 

Landimere saw the look of pain, and said, quickly: 

“But you have come back to turn to a glowing page. 
She is free, and ” 

Gordon looked puzzled as he instantly interrupted his 
friend: 

“ Don’t mention her. That is done with forever.” 

Landimere was silenced for a moment; then, to turn 
the conversation, he told Gordon of his experience with 
Cora Taunton. 

“That’s good,” Gordon laughed. 

But his laugh was worthless. Landimere noticed it, 
and it cast a gloom upon him. Gordon went back to his 
hotel long before the dance was over. If he went there 
with the expectation of seeing Edna, he came away dis- 
appointed. 

He would not acknowledge to himself that he went 
there with such an expectation, yet he returned to his 
hotel ill at ease. 

“ What did Landimere mean by mentioning her?” he 
asked himself. “He had never told Vere he loved her, 
and why had Mr. Leighton spoken as he did? Can it be 
possible she told she was engaged to me forty-eight hours 
before she married Tremaine?” 

He tortured himself with these questions, and went to 
sleep, determined to remain but to-night at Cape. May. 

He awoke next morning with the same determination, 
and such was his intention still when, after his breakfast, 
he opened a packet of letters that came for him. He 
looked over a few, then took up a heavy envelope bearing 
a number of postmarks. 

“Umph,”he said, “this one has .been following me 
around the world. It is heavy enough to be important,” 
and he tore it open. “ Hello! it’s Vere’s writing!” To 
make sure he turned to the last page on the lengthy 
document. True enough, it was signed Vere Gordon 
Landimere. “I wonder what it is all about? Shall I 
read it, or get him to tell it to me — now that he is here?” 
He turned back to the first page, and his eye caught a 
name — Edna Forrest. 

Then he read the lengthy letter explaining Hetty’s 
terrible mistake, and all that took place at the Nest 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR . 


141 


nearly two years before. It was written by Loi*d Landi- 
mere the day following that memorable day at the Nest, 
and it reached Colonel Clifford this morning. 

He got up from the reading of that letter, and acted 
like a madman. He said after he was mad. He rang the 
bell, and asked to have Lord Landimere, who was stop- 
ping at the hotel, sent to him at once. 

Landimere came in alarm, for the call-boy said there 
was something wrong with Colonel Clifford. 

“ Vere, tell me, did you write that letter? Is it true? 
or am I dreaming — am I mad?” 

Landimere, trembling, picked lip the letter Gordon 
pointed to so excitedly. 

“ It came this morning — look at the date — did you 
write it?” 

“ Great heavens! did you get this only to-day? It is 
true — true as I have written it. Then you didn’t know 
what I meant last night. Oh, Gordon, now that you 
do know, can you forgive me for being the cause of so 
much misery to you?” 

“ Don’t talk to me,” cried Gordon, snatching his hat 
and putting it on — “ don’t ask me any questions now. 
It’s true, and I’m not dreaming — not mad. It’s true — 
true!” and he grasped the letter Vere held and rushed 
out of the room and out of the hotel, and did not pause 
until he rang Mr. Leighton’s door-bell. 

It was a fortunate thing that Mr. Leighton was coming 
out at that moment, for the servant might have reported 
a madman. 

“ My dear fellow!” said Mr. Leighton, turning pale as 
he confronted Clifford. The old gentleman saw that 
something unusual had happened. 

“ My dear sir, forgive me for coming like this, but you 
see I only just found it out. I want to take back what I 
said yesterday. I didn’t know of the terrible mistake 
that cursed my life and hers — see, I just got Landimere’s 
letter.” 

He put the much-post-marked envelope in Mr. Leigh- 
ton’s hand as he spoke. 

The old gentleman drew the excited young man into 
the parlor, for he was talking loudly, and the servant ap- 
peared to answer the door-bell. 

“I see it all,” said Mr. Leighton. “There, be calm. 


142 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


my boy; you received your letter not too late, but just in 
time. You can say to her now what propriety would 
forbid two years ago. Will you see her now?” and the 
old gentleman laid his hand kindly on Clifford's shoulder. 

“ Will she see me?” 

“ I'm sure she will. Calm yourself, and I’ll send her 
to you.” 

Calm himself? Well, he tried to — or thought he did — 
but when Edna appeared at the door he rushed toward 
her. He stopped suddenly, though, when she paused on 
the threshold, and his speech left him. 

“ Mr. Leighton told me you received Lord Landimere's 
letter only this morning ” 

The torrent of speech came back to him, and he inter- 
rupted her with: 

“Can you forgive the bitter things I said to you?” 

“I deserved them all, you believing what you did,” she 
said, in a voice so calm that it put him in agony. 

“You have not answered my question. I asked your 
forgiveness. I would ask for more than your forgiveness 
if I dared.” 

She walked over to him, with that heavenly glow on 
her beautiful face. She put her arms about his neck. 

“Gordon, I had such little faith; are you willing to 
trust me again?” 

He clasped her to his bosom, and held her there. It 
was the only answer he could give her. 

It was a happiness too intense for words. 

“ Yere was right,” he said. “ I have turned at last to 
the glowing page of my life.” 

“And may it ever remain open at that,” said Edna, 
looking up into his happy eyes. 

“ I suppose Vere told you that when I consented to 
take his name I had a presentiment that it would be the 
dark page in my life; and it was. There was nothing 
disgraceful in our exchange of names, and it y^as my love 
of adventure that tempted me to do it. He had been 
entrapped into marriage by a designing girl for his name 
and fortune. He thought himself free from her; he 
knew he was susceptible, and he determined to present 
himself here as Richard Clifford, poor but respectable — 
in fact, to personate me, just as long as we would have 
the good fortune not to be found out — and only marry 


MARRIED BY THE MAYOR. 


143 


the girl who would love him for himself. You see, there 
was no wrong intended, but I always felt I was a fraud, 
and especially so when I won you under false pretenses. 
Heaven, what we have suffered for it!” 

“ We will never mention it again, Gordon.” 

“My own Edna!” and he clasped her to his heart 
again. 

What a happy place the Leighton cottage was that day! 
Yere and Amy, and Sir Robert and Kate, were there to 
take a look at the glowing page. 


[the end.] 



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20 


30 

19 


MUNBQ'8 'LIBRARY,— AUTHORS' LIST. 


MISCELLANEOUS WORKS.-Continued. 

rO. PKICK* 

133 — The Beautiful Rivals 10 

134— For a Dream’s Sake, by Mrs. Herbert Martin 20 

135 — Mark Seaworth, by William H. G. Kingston 20 

136— Regimental Legends, by J. S. Winter 20 

138 — Susan Drummond, by Mrs. J. H. Riddell 20 

189 — Robbing Peter to Pay Paul, by John Saunders 20', 

142— The Flirt, by Mrs. Grey 20 

151 — The Queen’s Book, Victoria R. 1 10 

152 — John Brown’s Legs, by Ken ward Philp 20 

153 — Berlin Society, by Count Paul Vasili 10 

163— Leonine, by the Author of “For Mother’s Sake” 20 

166 — The Midshipman, Marmaduke Merry 20 

168 — An Old Man’s Love, by Anthony Trollope 10 

180 — The Sun Maid, by Miss Grant 20 

182 — Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye, by Helen B. Mathers 20 

183— Nancy, by Rhoda Broughton 20 

203 — The Way of the World, by David Christie Murray 20 

204 — Wild Oats, by Henry Greville, 20 

206 — Claire and the Forge-Master, by George Ohnet 20 

207 — The Man She Cared For, by F~ W. Robinson 20 

208— Pretty Miss Neville, by B. M. Croker 20 

209 — Fourteen Years With Adelina Patti 10 

210— Sappho, by Alphonse Daudet 10 

213— Cruel as the Grave, by Genevive Ulmar 20 

228— A Sinless Secret, by “ Rita ” 10 

231 — The Gambler's Wife, by Author of “ The Belle of the 

Family,” etc 26 

234 — Beyond Recall, by Adeline Sergeant 10 

235 — The Parisian Detective, by F. Du Boisgobey 10 

239 — Love and Mirage 10 

243 — A Sea Change, by Flora L. Shaw 20 

251 — A Story of Three Sisters, by C. Maxwell 20 

257 — Tom Brown’s School Days, by Thos. Hughes 20 

261 — The Lover’s Creed, by Mrs. Cashel Hoey 20 

264— Memoirs of a Man of the World, by Edmund Yates... 20 

303 — A Terrible trime, by Emma Garrison Jones 20 

304 — Addie’s Husband 20 

814 — 20,000 Leagues under the Seas 20 

333— Life and Memoirs of Cen. Grant If 


MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

24 and 26 Vandewater St., N. V 





PRICE 35 CENTS . 


The following list of books is handsomely bound in cloth and 
gold, and are for sale by the dealer through whom you receive 
this catalogue. 

SELECT FROM THIS LIST. 

Janet’s Repentance, by George Eliot. 

Silas Marner, by George Eliot. 

Felix Holt, the Radical, by George Eliot. 

The Mill on the Floss, by George Eliot. 

Brother Jacob, by George Eliot. 

Adam Bede, by George Eliot. 

Romola, by George Eliot. 

Sad Fortunes of Rev. Amos Barton, by G. Eliot. 

Daniel Deronda, by George Eliot. 

Middlemarch, by George Eliot. 

Mr. Gilfil’s Love Story, by George Eliot. 

The Spanish Gypsy, by George Eliot. 

Impressions of Theophrastus Such, by George Eliot. 

The Two Orphans, by D’Ennery. 

Yolande, by William Black. 

Lady Audley’s Secret, by Miss Braddon. 

When the Ship Comes Home, by Besant & Rice. 

John Halifax, Gentlemen, by Miss Mulock. 

In Peril of his Life, by Gaboriau. 

The Romantic Adventures of a Milkmaid. 

Molly Bawn, by the “ Duchess.” 

Portia, by the “ Duchess.” 

Kit: a Memory, by James Payn. 

East Lynne, by Mrs. Henry Wood. 

Her Mother’s Sin, 

A Princess of Thule, by William Black. 

Phyllis, by the “ Duchess.” 

David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens. 

Very Hard Cash, by Charles Reade. 

Ivanhoe, by Sir Walter Scott. 

Shirley, by Miss Bronte. 

The Last Days of Pompeii, by Bulwer Lytton. 

Charlotte Temple, by Airs. Rowson. 

Dora Thorne, . 

Old Curiosity Shop, by Charles Dickens. 

Camille, by Alex. Dumas, Jr. 

The Three Guardsmen, by Alex. Dumas. 

Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. 

Romance of a Poor Young Man, by Feuillet. 

Back to the Old Home, by Alary Cecil Hay. 

Twenty Years After, by Alex. Dumas. 

A Queen Amongst Women, and Between Two Sins. 

Madolin’s Lover, 

Lucille, by Owen Meredith. 

Thaddeus of Warsaw, by Jane Porter. 


MUNRCTS BOUND BOOKS. 


Charles Auchester, by E. Berger. 

A Strange Story, by Bulwer. 

Aurora Floyd, by Miss Braddon. 

■Barbara’s History, by Amelia B. Edwards. 

Called to Account, by Annie Thomas. 

Old Myddelton’s Money, by Mary Cecil Hay 
.Thorns and Orange Blossoms, 

Nicholas Nickleby, by Charles Dickens. 

Floths, a Novel, by “ Ouida.” 

Christmas Stories, by Charles Dickens. 

The Executor, by Mrs. Alexander. 

Annette, by the Author of “Camille.” 

A Sinless Crime, by Geraldine Fleming. 

The Wentworth Mystery, by Watts Phillips. 

Leola Dale’s Fortune, by Geraldine Fleming. 

Plot and Counterplot, Author of “ Quadroona.” 
Fair and False, by Mrs. Dale. 

Set in Diamonds, by the “ Countess.” 

Who was the Heir? by Geraldine Fleming. 
Daughters of Eve, by Paul Meritt. 

The World Between Them, by the “ Countess.” 
Beauty’s Marriage, by Owen Marston. 

Only a Girl’s Love, by Geraldine Fleming. 

Behind the Silver Veil, by Mrs. Dale. 

A Passion Flower, by the “ Countess.” 

A Dark Marriage Morn, by Owen Marston. 

Dregs and Froth, by A. H. Wall. 

For Better, For Worse, by Mostyn Durward. 
What Love Will Do, by Annabel Gray. 

Lover and Husband, by Owen Marston. 

The Woman in Red, by G. W. M. Reynolds. 
Sweet as a Rose, by Mostyn Durward. 

Romance of a Black Veil, 

At the World’s Mercy, by F. Warden. 

A Dangerous Game, by Ida Linn Girard. 

His Wedded Wife. 

Count of Monte-Cristo, Part I., by Alex. Dumas. 
Count of Monte-Cristo, Part II., by Alex. Duma*. 
For a Dream’s Sake, by Mrs. Herbert Martin. 
Mark Seaworth, by William H. G. Kingston. 
Regimental Legends, by J. S. Winter. 

The Heidenmauer, by J. Fenimore Cooper. 

Susan Drummond, by Mrs. J. II. Riddell. 

Robbing Peter to Pay Patil, by John Saunders. 
Charles O’Malley, Part I., by Charles Lever. 
Charles O’Malley, Part II., by Charles Lever. 

The Flirt, by Mrs. Grey. 

The Minister’s Wife, by Mrs. Oliphant. 

A Terrible Temptation, by Charles Reade. 

The New Abelard, by Robert Buchanan. 

The Monastery, by Sir Walter Scott. 

The Abbot, sequel to “The Monastery.” 

Leila, by Geo. W. M. Reynolds. 

Karaman, sequel to “ Leila.” 

The Queen’s Book, Victoria, R. I. 

Beyond Pardon, 

The Wandering Jew, by Eugene Sue. ( Vol. l.Y 
The Wandering Jew, by Eugene Sue. ( Vol. 2.) 
Harry Lorrequer, by Charles Lever. 

It is Never too Late to Mend, by Charles Reade. 


MUNRCTS BOUND BOOKS. 

The Mysteries of Parts, iv ^‘agene Sue. ( Vol. 1) 
The Mysteries of Paris, by Eugene Sue. ( Vol. S.) 
Tom Burke, of “ Ours,” by C. Lever. (Vol. 1.) 
Tom Burke, of “ Ours,” by C. Lever. (Vol. 2.) 
Foul Play, by Charles Reade. 

Put Yourself in His Place, by Charles Reade. 

Not Like Other Girls, by Rosa Nouchette Carey. 
The Midshipman, Marmaduke Merry. 

Jack’s Courtship, by W. Clark Russell. 

An Old Man’s Love, by Anthony Trollope. 

The Octoroon, by Miss M. E. Braddon. 

John Bull and His Island, by Max O’Rell. 

“ Airy Fairy Lilian, ” by the author of “ Phyllis 
The Clique of Gold, by Emile Gaboriau. 

Beauty’s Daughters, by the “Duchess.” 

For Her Dear Sake, by Mary Cecil Hay. 

Vixen, by Miss M. E. Braddon. 

The New Magdalen, by Wilkie Collins. 

White Wings. A Yachting Romance. 

The Arundel Motto, by Mary Cecil Hay. 

Barnaby Rudge, by Charles Dickens. 

The Sun Maid, by Miss Grant. 

Maid, Wife or Widow? by Mrs. Alexander. 

Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye, by Helen B. Mathers. 
Nancy, by Rhoda Broughton. 

Hidden Perils, by Mary Cecil Hay. 

A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens. 

The Wooing O’t, by Mrs. Alexander. 

Which Loved Him Best? 

A Sailor’s Sweetheart, by W. Clark Russell. 
Friendship, by “ Ouida.” 

Griffith Gaunt, by Charles Reade. 

Lord Lynne’s Choice, 

Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens. 

Barbara; or. Splendid Misery, by Miss Braddon. 
My First Offer, by Mary Cecil Hay. 

Which Shall it Be? by Mrs. Alexander.. 

Pascarel, by “ Ouida.” 

The Moonstone, by Wilkie Collins. 

A Woman-Hater, by Charles Reade. 

A Little Pilgrim, by Mrs. Oliphant. 

Signa, by “ Ouida.” 

Readiaha, by Charles Reade. 

The Way of the World, by David Christie Murray. 
Agnes Sorel, by G. P. R. James. 

The Man She Cared For, by F. W. Robinson. 
Pretty Miss Neville, by B. M. Croker. 

Hard Times, by Charles Dickens. 

Called Back, by Hugh Conway. 


Price S3 Cents. 


MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUS-, 

21 and 26 Yandewater St., N, 


MUNRO’S LIBRARY. 

LATEST ISSUES. 


CHARLES DICKENS’ WORKS. 


No. PRICE. 

316 — Our Mutual Friend — Part 1 20 

317 — Our Mutual Friend — Part II 20 

318 — Bleak House — Part 1 20 

319 — Bleak House — Part II 20 

320 — Martin Chuzzlewit — Part 1 20 

321 — Martin Chuzzlewit — Part II 20 

322 — Dombey and Son — Part 1 20 

323 — Dombey and Son — Part II 20 

324 — Great Expectations 20 

325 — Mrs. Lirriper’s Legacy and Lodgings 20 

326 — Little Dorrit — Part 1 20 

327 — Little Dorrit — Part II 20 

328 — The Pickwick Papers — Part I 20 

329 — The Pickwick Papers — Part II 20 

330 — Mystery of Edwin Drood 20 

331 — The Uncommercial Traveler 20 

332 — Sketches by Boz 20 

3 3 — American Notes 20 

334 — Pictures from Italy and Mudfog Papers 20 


MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. 


335 — Life of Gen. Grant 10 

336— A Terrible Secret, by Geraldine Fleming 10 

337— The Russians at the Gates of Herat, by C. Marvin 10 

On the Fo’kVle Head, by W. Clark Russell: and 
Trusted and Loved 20 

339— Slaves of the Ring, by Geraldine Fleming 20 


340 — A Lost Son, by Mary Linskill 10 

341— Dead Men Tell no Tales, But Live Men Do, by G. A. Sala 20 

342— j-That Terrible Man, by W. E. Norris; & A Fit of tbe Blues 10 

343— Paul and Virginia, by B. de St. Pierre 10 

MISS M. E. BRADDON’S WORKS. 

344 — Diavola — Part 1 20 

345— Diavola — Part II 20 

346— Married in Haste, Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

347 — Put to the Test, Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

348 — Joshua Haggard’s Daughter 20 

349 — Rupert Godwin 20 


Munro’s Library is for sale by all newsdealers, or will be 
sent to any address, on receipt of marked price, by the publisher. 
Address, 

MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

24 and 26 Yandewater St., N. Y. 


SOME PRESS NOTICES 


or 

MUNRO’S POCKET MAGAZINE. 


What the World thinks of No. 1: 

The first number of Monro’s Pocket Magazine, published to-dav, it 
a neat, handy volume of 320 pages. It contains Max O’Rell’s “John 
Bull’s Daughters,” complete; Louisa Lauw’s “Fourteen Years with 
Adelina Patti,” complete; the opening chapters of “A Family Affair,” 
by the author of “Called Back,” and a choice miscellany of short 
stories and poems taken from the best English magazines. The Editorial 
Tid-bits contain bright comments on the topics of the day, the move- 
ment in literary, dramatic and social circles. The magazine' is to appear 
monthly. 


What the Sun says: 

Mttnro’s Pocket Magazine made its appearance yesterday. It is In a 
email duodecimo form, and is made up of interesting selections judi- 
ciously put together. The whole of Max O’Rell’s “ John Bull’s Daugh- 
ters ” is given. The number contains more than three hundred closely 
printed pages. 


What the Tribune observes: 

Mr. N. L. Munro has just begun the publication of a monthly 
▼vhich he calls Mcnro’s Pocket Magazine. It is a collection printed in 
reasonably clear type of some of the best current matter of the English 
magazines. combined with the complete publication of such books as 
“John Bull’s Daughters.” A few contributions from American authors 
will be included in the list and an editorial department will be maim 
tained. 


Munro’s Pocket Magazine is the cheapest journal o t 
its kind in the world. Each number contains 

350 PACES 

of reading matter by the most celebrated authors. 

For Sale by all Newsdealers, or sent, on receipt of 20 
cents, to any part of the country, postage paid. Address. 

MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE. 

24 and 26 Vandewater Street, N. Y- 






No. 


4 


MRN. ALEX. McVEIGH MILLERS WORKS. 

1. A Dreadful Temptation f 20 Cent* 

“ 2. The Bride of the Tomb 20 

•• 3. An Old Man’s Darling 20 

“ 4. Queenie’s Terrible Secret 20 44 

" 5. Jaquelina 20 

84 6. Little Golden’s Daughter 20 44 

44 7. The Rose and the Lily 20 

41 8. Countess Vera 20 

44 9. Bonnie Dora 20 44 

84 10. Guy Kenmore’s Wife 20 % 

GEORGE ELIO I N WORKS, 

44 11. Janet’s Repentance 10 

41 12. Silas Marner 10 44 

14 13. Felix Holt, the Radical 20 44 

M <4. The Mill on the Floss 20 44 

14 15. Brother Jacob 10 48 

44 16. Adam Bede 20 44 

44 17. Romola 20 44 

44 18. Sad Fortunes of Rev. Amos Barton, 10 44 

44 19. Daniel Deronda 20 44 

44 20. Middlemarch 20 44 

44 21. Mr. Gilfll’s Love Story 10 

44 22. The Spanish Gypsy 20 44 

44 23. Impressions of Theophrastus Such 10 44 

MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. 

44 24. The Two Orphans. By D’Ennery 10 44 

84 25. Yolande. By William Black 20 48 

44 26. Lady Audley’s Secret. By Miss Braddon 20 44 

44 27. When the Snip Comes Home. By Besant & Rice. 10 44 

44 28. John Halifax, Gentleman. By Miss Mulock 20 48 

44 29. In Peril of his Life By Gaboriau 20 44 

44 30. The Romantic Adventures of a Milkmaid 10 44 

44 31. Molly Bawn. By the Duchess 20 48 

32. Portia. By the Duchess 20 44 

Kit: a Memory. By James Payne 20 44 

East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry Wood 20 44 

Her Mother’s Sin. By Bo»*tha M. Clay 10 48 

A Princess of Thule. By William Black 20 48 

Phyllis. By the Duchess 20 44 

44 38. David Copperfleld. By Charles l>*ekens 20 44 

44 39. Very Hard Cash. By Charles Reaae 20 44 

44 40. Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter Scott 20 48 

44 41. Shirley. By Miss Bronte 20 44 

44 42. The Last Days of Pompeii. By Bulwer Lytton 20 48 

44 43. Charlotte Temple. By Miss Rowson 10 48 

44 44. Dora Thorne. By Bertha M. Clay 20 48 

44 45. Old Curiosity Shop. By Charles Dickens 20 44 

44 46. Camille. By Alex. Dumas, Jr 10 48 

44 47. The Three Guardsmen. By Alex. Dumas 20 48 

44 48. Jane Eyre By Charlotte Bronte 20 44 

44 49. Romance of a Poor Young Man. By Feuillet 10 44 

44 50. Back to the Old Home. By Mary Cecil Hay 10 44 

44 51. Maggie; or, the Loom Girl of LowelL By William Mason Turner, M. D.20 44 

44 52. Two Wedding Rings. By Margaret Blount 20 44 

44 53. Led Astray. By Helen M. Lewis 20 4e 

44 54. A Woman’s Atonement. By Adah M. Howard St 0 48 

44 55. False. By Geraldine Fleming 20 48 

44 56. The Curse of Dangerfleld. By Elsie Snow 20 48 

44 57. Ten Years of His Life. By Eva Evergreen 20 48 

44 58. A Woman’s Fault. By Evelyn Gray 20 *\ 

44 59. Twenty Years After. By Alex. Dumas 20 48 

44 60. A Queen Amongst Women and Between Two Sins. By Bertha M. Clay .20 48 

i4 61. Madolin’c ^over. By Bertha M. Clay 20 48 

44 62. Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Jane Porter 20 41 

44 63. Lucile. By Owen Meredith 20 44 

44 64. Charles Auchester. By E. Berger 20 44 

44 65. A Strange Story. By Bulwer 20 44 

44 66. Aurora Floyd. By Miss Braddon 20 48 

44 67. Barbara’s History. By Amelia B. Edwards 20 48 

44 68. Called to Account. By Annie Thomas 20 44 

44 69. Old Mvddleton’s Money. By Mary Cecil Hay 20 48 

44 70. Thorns and Orange Blossoms. By Bertha M. Clay. Complete 10 44 

Remember that we do not charge extra for postage. Munro’s Library will be 
sent to any part of the world, single numbers for 10 cents, double numbers for 
20 cents. 

NORMAN L. M TTvr RO, PUBLISHER, 

* 24 & 26 Vandewater St., N. Y. 


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34. 

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36. 

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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



